New Fic: The best laid plans (Love Letters series)
Title: The best laid plans
Characters/pairing: Tenth Doctor and Donna; Sylvia Noble
Genre: Romance/Humour
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I own the Doctor and Donna about as much as I own Shakespeare
Summary: Continuing the 'Love Letters' series that began with bas_math_girl's Love Letters... Almost... Hopefully, tkel_paris's Donna's Terse, Unimpressed Replies, BMG's Love Letters... Getting Closer , my An ongoing correspondence and tkel_paris's Female advice on love letters.
The best laid plans
The Doctor pushed his glasses up off his nose, leant his elbows on the desk, and dropped his face into his palms, emitting a sigh of frustration.
He was so much out of his comfort zone.
His conversation with Sarah-Jane, though instructive, had been deeply, illuminatingly, mortifying. On how wrong he had got things with Donna. How many times he had got things wrong with Donna.
He had to get it right this time. He was beginning to suspect all the recent goings-on had been trying Donna’s patience and he didn’t want to upset her again, or make her feel less about herself just because he stupidly put his foot in his mouth over something.
A multi-pronged strategy was definitely called for, and fortunately Sarah-Jane had given him plenty of suggestions on tactics to employ.
Thorough preparation was of the essence. Research was required. Lots of research. The Doctor pulled his head up and smiled to himself. Now we’re talking! I’m good at research! I like research!
He pulled out Sarah-Jane’s note again and re-read the list of Donna’s favourite poets and playwrights. All of them were famous and globally loved; he couldn’t go wrong if he followed their lead! So, part one of the strategy to win Donna’s heart would be to study and analyse these works and see what he could “borrow” to convey to Donna how he felt about her.
He thought back to his chat with Sarah-Jane and her various pieces of advice: Don’t mention past girlfriends and DO NOT, EVER, compare them with the object of your affection. He could do that. Note to self: Do not mention Rose Tyler in front of Donna ever again, unless in the context of “Rose who?” Avoid all mentions of Donna’s body unless its something simple that indicates I like what I see. That’s easy, there is so much I love about Donna’s body…he started to daydream about her beautiful gold-tinged blue eyes, her ginger hair (almost my favourite part), the freckles on her shoulders, her soft hands (always with a great manicure), luscious legs, and let’s not forget her AMAZING….He was startled back to reality when he felt the drool hit the hand he had resting on the desk.
Probably the most helpful tip in Sarah-Jane’s note was her advice that “actions speak louder than words”. That suited him just fine. To be honest, he was utter rubbish at verbalizing his feelings, just the thought of it made him nervous and tongue-tied, increasing the likelihood of babbling, which then made it completely impossible for him to be understood by anyone, let alone the particular focus of the babbling.
He already had a couple of ideas in his head to try out that evening…making dinner went without saying, of course, but he had also noticed that of late Donna had been a little more bit tired than usual, and there were lots of things he could do to help there as well…foot massages, back rub…despite the Hands!edict, she was actually quite tactile where he was concerned, and he felt sure she would appreciate experiencing for herself that super-temps weren’t the only ones with magic fingers….
Yes, there were so many things he could do, without even having to speak a word, to show her how much he loved her, respected her, treasured her. But he suspected that that still wouldn’t be enough, he needed to give her proof in writing, that she could hold in her hand as ‘Exhibit A: Donna Noble is brilliant and amazing and loved'. After the near-debacle of the first four letters, he wasn’t feeling so confident about writing a longer tome just yet, and in any case, he still had lots of research and practice to do before he would have something ready for Sarah-Jane’s look-over.
So for the time being, in line with Sarah-Jane’s “keep it simple (stupid?)” suggestion, he decided he could kind of ‘warm up’, so to speak, with shorter, to-the-point messages. Yet another fantastic use for Post-its! he thought happily, giving himself a mental reminder to use Post-its in blue and purple, Donna’s favorite colours.
The only thing he wasn’t sure about were the “Three most powerful words in the English language” that Sarah-Jane had mentioned right at the end, and he mentally kicked himself for not having clarified that with her at the time. Which three words exactly had she been talking about? There were thousands of words in the English language, and many multiples more of various combinations of three of them. He hadn’t been aware that English words had specific ‘power ratings’, but even if he had, how to tell which combination had the highest? Maybe it was like Scrabble, and if he used the right combination in the right place at the right time, he’d get a triple word bonus score - even more powerful! The way things had been going up to now, he definitely needed all the help he could get! He determined to ask Sarah-Jane about it when he took his draft letter to her for comment.
But he didn’t have too much time to contemplate on that further; Donna would be back from visiting with Sylvia in under an hour. Just enough time for him to swing the whole plan into action. He hummed happily to himself as he flitted about the TARDIS, placing a purple Post-it here, a vase of her favourite flowers, and another (blue, this time) Post-it in her bedroom (I hope she doesn’t hit me for going in there while she was out…), yet another Post-it (feeling a little bold, he decided to add two x’s at the end) there.
Thanks to the TARDIS’s assistance, a gourmet 3-course meal would greet Donna’s return. That and a smiling, hair-freshly-quiffed, new-pinstriped-suited and sporting-the-aftershave-you-bought-me (which I genuinely love because, well, you bought it for me) Doctor, fingers ready to unknot tired muscles and soothingly stroke glorious red mane. He even had a little basket of supplies tucked in the corner of the library ready to give her a proper, professional pedicure, should she be amenable to the suggestion.
Yes, this first stage of ‘Operation Woo’ was going to work splendidly, he was sure of it! There was just one more thing he had to do though before Donna returned home. And that was to pay a visit to a certain unhelpful Bard to give him a piece of his mind!
Donna mused thoughtfully as she sipped her tea, only half tuned in to Sylvia as she prattled on about the latest domestic trevails of…the woman across the street..or was it Suzette’s latest lose-weight-fast fad? To be honest, Donna didn’t really care so much, her mind was otherwise occupied, mulling yet again over her earlier conversation with Sarah-Jane: I do have some ideas about what you should do. Which will make things a little easier for the Doctor... if he's willing to do the necessary work...!
What Sarah-Jane had suggested made quite a lot of sense, even if it did require Donna to reconsider and revise the way she’d been doing some things. Like the Hands!edict.
If Donna was going to be completely honest with herself, she’d only said that at the beginning out of bravado and bluster to hide her disappointment at the Doctor’s seemingly categorical dismissal of even the possibility that they could ever be more than friends.
Not that she didn’t value his friendship, quite the opposite, it was quite simply the most wonderful, amazing thing she had ever had, and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise it. Even if that meant keeping up the pretence - that she had thought he had wanted - of spurning overt physical displays of affection.
Really though, who were they kidding? The amount of touching that went on between them - supposedly only best friends - bordered on the ridiculous, and neither of them really had any right to show, or even feign, surprise that they kept being mistaken for a couple when they constantly acted like one.
Obviously, the Doctor wasn’t going to risk her wrath by being first to verbally dispense with Hands!, so it would be up to her to do it, and explicitly. And then perhaps give him a big, slightly-longer-than-appropriate-for-best-friends hug to prove that he hadn’t just imagined what she had just said.
Donna thought that it might also be useful to be generally more reciprocating of his advances of physical affection, and perhaps even initiate a few herself. She would need to be restrained at first, didn’t want to startle him too much and make his respiratory bypass kick in, but enough to make sure there would be no mistaking that she found him attractive in more than platonic way.
And given that, despite four fairly direct (and, admittedly, blunt) written responses to his rather hapless and garbled literary attempts to explain himself, she still wasn’t that much closer to learning exactly how deeply he felt for her, she would have to model what she wanted to see from him.
She decided she would write little notes for him, telling him his hair was looking extra amazing, or thanking him for taking her to the Planet of the Hats again, or things like “I really appreciate you teaching me to drive the TARDIS and hey, you look a bit tired just now, why don’t you let me take the controls for a while?”, or “Spaceman, those red Converses do go really well with the blue suit”. Maybe even something as simple and significant as “You know, I am so happy just being with you”.
I love you.
Nah, that one was a little too scary for her to let out just yet. And besides, Sarah-Jane had said he needed to put in “the necessary work.” Sisterhood unite, and all that. Donna wasn’t about to let the team down.
She smiled as she finished the last bite of custard cream biscuit on her plate. “Well, I guess I should be going then,” she said. Sylvia looked at her, having been interrupted mid-sentence. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said, young lady?” she griped, taking Donna’s cup and saucer a little roughly before turning to go to the kitchen sink. “Half the time, I think if I suddenly sprouted another head in the middle of our conversation you’d hardly notice, your mind is off with the fairies somewhere, no doubt down to that Doctor’s influence I’ll wager.”
“’Course I was listening Mum, and if it were me, I’d tell Joan to accept the fact he’s gone, he’s not coming back, and just move on. And Suzette should know better than to believe anything written in the Sunday rags, particularly after what happened to her with those Adipose pills”.
It did the trick. Sylvia, apparently gratified, shooed Donna towards the door, with her usual warnings to be careful and “Make sure that Doctor takes care of you, or he’ll have me to answer to.”
“Yes, Mum” Donna’s expression softened, and she placed her hand gently on Sylvia’s shoulder while kissing her on the cheek. “Remember? I’m the one who looks after him. Give my love to Gramps, and tell I’ll be back for a visit before he knows it.”
She turned and walked out the door towards the TARDIS, parked just across the street, fingering the key absent-mindedly.
I’m going to teach the Doctor how to woo me. Without him even knowing….
Characters/pairing: Tenth Doctor and Donna; Sylvia Noble
Genre: Romance/Humour
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I own the Doctor and Donna about as much as I own Shakespeare
Summary: Continuing the 'Love Letters' series that began with bas_math_girl's Love Letters... Almost... Hopefully, tkel_paris's Donna's Terse, Unimpressed Replies, BMG's Love Letters... Getting Closer , my An ongoing correspondence and tkel_paris's Female advice on love letters.
The best laid plans
The Doctor pushed his glasses up off his nose, leant his elbows on the desk, and dropped his face into his palms, emitting a sigh of frustration.
He was so much out of his comfort zone.
His conversation with Sarah-Jane, though instructive, had been deeply, illuminatingly, mortifying. On how wrong he had got things with Donna. How many times he had got things wrong with Donna.
He had to get it right this time. He was beginning to suspect all the recent goings-on had been trying Donna’s patience and he didn’t want to upset her again, or make her feel less about herself just because he stupidly put his foot in his mouth over something.
A multi-pronged strategy was definitely called for, and fortunately Sarah-Jane had given him plenty of suggestions on tactics to employ.
Thorough preparation was of the essence. Research was required. Lots of research. The Doctor pulled his head up and smiled to himself. Now we’re talking! I’m good at research! I like research!
He pulled out Sarah-Jane’s note again and re-read the list of Donna’s favourite poets and playwrights. All of them were famous and globally loved; he couldn’t go wrong if he followed their lead! So, part one of the strategy to win Donna’s heart would be to study and analyse these works and see what he could “borrow” to convey to Donna how he felt about her.
He thought back to his chat with Sarah-Jane and her various pieces of advice: Don’t mention past girlfriends and DO NOT, EVER, compare them with the object of your affection. He could do that. Note to self: Do not mention Rose Tyler in front of Donna ever again, unless in the context of “Rose who?” Avoid all mentions of Donna’s body unless its something simple that indicates I like what I see. That’s easy, there is so much I love about Donna’s body…he started to daydream about her beautiful gold-tinged blue eyes, her ginger hair (almost my favourite part), the freckles on her shoulders, her soft hands (always with a great manicure), luscious legs, and let’s not forget her AMAZING….He was startled back to reality when he felt the drool hit the hand he had resting on the desk.
Probably the most helpful tip in Sarah-Jane’s note was her advice that “actions speak louder than words”. That suited him just fine. To be honest, he was utter rubbish at verbalizing his feelings, just the thought of it made him nervous and tongue-tied, increasing the likelihood of babbling, which then made it completely impossible for him to be understood by anyone, let alone the particular focus of the babbling.
He already had a couple of ideas in his head to try out that evening…making dinner went without saying, of course, but he had also noticed that of late Donna had been a little more bit tired than usual, and there were lots of things he could do to help there as well…foot massages, back rub…despite the Hands!edict, she was actually quite tactile where he was concerned, and he felt sure she would appreciate experiencing for herself that super-temps weren’t the only ones with magic fingers….
Yes, there were so many things he could do, without even having to speak a word, to show her how much he loved her, respected her, treasured her. But he suspected that that still wouldn’t be enough, he needed to give her proof in writing, that she could hold in her hand as ‘Exhibit A: Donna Noble is brilliant and amazing and loved'. After the near-debacle of the first four letters, he wasn’t feeling so confident about writing a longer tome just yet, and in any case, he still had lots of research and practice to do before he would have something ready for Sarah-Jane’s look-over.
So for the time being, in line with Sarah-Jane’s “keep it simple (stupid?)” suggestion, he decided he could kind of ‘warm up’, so to speak, with shorter, to-the-point messages. Yet another fantastic use for Post-its! he thought happily, giving himself a mental reminder to use Post-its in blue and purple, Donna’s favorite colours.
The only thing he wasn’t sure about were the “Three most powerful words in the English language” that Sarah-Jane had mentioned right at the end, and he mentally kicked himself for not having clarified that with her at the time. Which three words exactly had she been talking about? There were thousands of words in the English language, and many multiples more of various combinations of three of them. He hadn’t been aware that English words had specific ‘power ratings’, but even if he had, how to tell which combination had the highest? Maybe it was like Scrabble, and if he used the right combination in the right place at the right time, he’d get a triple word bonus score - even more powerful! The way things had been going up to now, he definitely needed all the help he could get! He determined to ask Sarah-Jane about it when he took his draft letter to her for comment.
But he didn’t have too much time to contemplate on that further; Donna would be back from visiting with Sylvia in under an hour. Just enough time for him to swing the whole plan into action. He hummed happily to himself as he flitted about the TARDIS, placing a purple Post-it here, a vase of her favourite flowers, and another (blue, this time) Post-it in her bedroom (I hope she doesn’t hit me for going in there while she was out…), yet another Post-it (feeling a little bold, he decided to add two x’s at the end) there.
Thanks to the TARDIS’s assistance, a gourmet 3-course meal would greet Donna’s return. That and a smiling, hair-freshly-quiffed, new-pinstriped-suited and sporting-the-aftershave-you-bought-me (which I genuinely love because, well, you bought it for me) Doctor, fingers ready to unknot tired muscles and soothingly stroke glorious red mane. He even had a little basket of supplies tucked in the corner of the library ready to give her a proper, professional pedicure, should she be amenable to the suggestion.
Yes, this first stage of ‘Operation Woo’ was going to work splendidly, he was sure of it! There was just one more thing he had to do though before Donna returned home. And that was to pay a visit to a certain unhelpful Bard to give him a piece of his mind!
Donna mused thoughtfully as she sipped her tea, only half tuned in to Sylvia as she prattled on about the latest domestic trevails of…the woman across the street..or was it Suzette’s latest lose-weight-fast fad? To be honest, Donna didn’t really care so much, her mind was otherwise occupied, mulling yet again over her earlier conversation with Sarah-Jane: I do have some ideas about what you should do. Which will make things a little easier for the Doctor... if he's willing to do the necessary work...!
What Sarah-Jane had suggested made quite a lot of sense, even if it did require Donna to reconsider and revise the way she’d been doing some things. Like the Hands!edict.
If Donna was going to be completely honest with herself, she’d only said that at the beginning out of bravado and bluster to hide her disappointment at the Doctor’s seemingly categorical dismissal of even the possibility that they could ever be more than friends.
Not that she didn’t value his friendship, quite the opposite, it was quite simply the most wonderful, amazing thing she had ever had, and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise it. Even if that meant keeping up the pretence - that she had thought he had wanted - of spurning overt physical displays of affection.
Really though, who were they kidding? The amount of touching that went on between them - supposedly only best friends - bordered on the ridiculous, and neither of them really had any right to show, or even feign, surprise that they kept being mistaken for a couple when they constantly acted like one.
Obviously, the Doctor wasn’t going to risk her wrath by being first to verbally dispense with Hands!, so it would be up to her to do it, and explicitly. And then perhaps give him a big, slightly-longer-than-appropriate-for-best-friends hug to prove that he hadn’t just imagined what she had just said.
Donna thought that it might also be useful to be generally more reciprocating of his advances of physical affection, and perhaps even initiate a few herself. She would need to be restrained at first, didn’t want to startle him too much and make his respiratory bypass kick in, but enough to make sure there would be no mistaking that she found him attractive in more than platonic way.
And given that, despite four fairly direct (and, admittedly, blunt) written responses to his rather hapless and garbled literary attempts to explain himself, she still wasn’t that much closer to learning exactly how deeply he felt for her, she would have to model what she wanted to see from him.
She decided she would write little notes for him, telling him his hair was looking extra amazing, or thanking him for taking her to the Planet of the Hats again, or things like “I really appreciate you teaching me to drive the TARDIS and hey, you look a bit tired just now, why don’t you let me take the controls for a while?”, or “Spaceman, those red Converses do go really well with the blue suit”. Maybe even something as simple and significant as “You know, I am so happy just being with you”.
I love you.
Nah, that one was a little too scary for her to let out just yet. And besides, Sarah-Jane had said he needed to put in “the necessary work.” Sisterhood unite, and all that. Donna wasn’t about to let the team down.
She smiled as she finished the last bite of custard cream biscuit on her plate. “Well, I guess I should be going then,” she said. Sylvia looked at her, having been interrupted mid-sentence. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said, young lady?” she griped, taking Donna’s cup and saucer a little roughly before turning to go to the kitchen sink. “Half the time, I think if I suddenly sprouted another head in the middle of our conversation you’d hardly notice, your mind is off with the fairies somewhere, no doubt down to that Doctor’s influence I’ll wager.”
“’Course I was listening Mum, and if it were me, I’d tell Joan to accept the fact he’s gone, he’s not coming back, and just move on. And Suzette should know better than to believe anything written in the Sunday rags, particularly after what happened to her with those Adipose pills”.
It did the trick. Sylvia, apparently gratified, shooed Donna towards the door, with her usual warnings to be careful and “Make sure that Doctor takes care of you, or he’ll have me to answer to.”
“Yes, Mum” Donna’s expression softened, and she placed her hand gently on Sylvia’s shoulder while kissing her on the cheek. “Remember? I’m the one who looks after him. Give my love to Gramps, and tell I’ll be back for a visit before he knows it.”
She turned and walked out the door towards the TARDIS, parked just across the street, fingering the key absent-mindedly.
I’m going to teach the Doctor how to woo me. Without him even knowing….