The Belted Doctor, Chapter 6
Title: The Belted Doctor, Chapter 6
Author: tkel_paris , aka KendraC
Rating: High T, borderline M for (very) naughty humor, and some hints... Consider yourself warned.
Summary: A crack!fic inspired by a line from “Robin Hood: Men in Tights” and run for its life with. The Doctor is left with a very uncomfortable “protection” against unwanted advances. But will he find the one who is foretold to release him from his... prison?
Disclaimer: Mel Brooks owns “Men in Tights.” The BBC and others own “Doctor Who.” 'Nuff said.
Author's Note: I was looking forward to writing this one from the moment I started writing the story. Muse tried to make me write more back when I posted it on FF.N, but I side-stepped her to keep this in the tone of the rest of the story. However, I recently recorded an (incomplete) airing of "Partners in Crime" and Muse had some additions to make. Hope you like!
Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
CHAPTER SIX: I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S YOU AGAIN!
Despite the promise he's made to the one person who'd turned him down, well over a year ago, the Doctor found himself wandering alone for a while after Martha left. Had Astrid lived, he would likely have offered her a place on the TARDIS. Would have even made room for her short-lived cyborg fiance had he survived, too. But - and this was the hardest detail of being him - sometimes companions died for the sake of the time-lines and the universe.
Made traveling alone, with just the TARDIS for company, easier. He absolutely hated being a factor in any person's death.
When the TARDIS sensors detected an unauthorized alien presence on Earth, he was ready to do something other than be in the vortex. It was time to play the hero again, he suspected. And from the moment he heard its name, he knew Adipose Industries was behind the threat. It was too much of a coincidence. So he hunted for the source of the problem...
And couldn't believe who else was investigating. Sarah Jane he might have suspected (though he was profoundly grateful she was never in the Matron's grip), but Donna Noble! He wondered later if the sudden, light-headed feeling he got when he saw her through the windows was euphoria; he'd never felt anything quite like it in his 903 years!
As they began their running and catching up, he also couldn't believe that she had soon come to regret her refusal. Sticking around to spend time with a dying father he understood, but a tiny part of him wanted to exclaim, “You couldn't have figured this all out last time and spared me a bunch of problems?!”
Donna would soon explain the concepts of whining, hissy fits, and puppy-dog eyes to him. And he would find himself mortified over the comparisons, and realized just how often he did any of those behaviors. Or being manipulated by such actions. Of course, her being around would put a stop to a lot of that; he wasn't keen on receiving one of her send-you-into-next-month slaps again. They might have lifted him from his depression, but he wasn't into pain for pain's sake.
No matter what the universe thought!
Oh, he nearly lost Donna again, but this time the Doctor was able to safely guess her weight (which later made him wonder just how heavy that dress had been, although he quickly figured out that it was better to never ask). And even with her penchant for talking (which would later - when he unthinkingly mentioned it - earn him a “pot calling the kettle black” retort, along with an indignant slap), she proved amazingly observant of little things - which made the difference in saving a million lives.
His instincts were right. Donna Noble was a very magnificent woman once she had the chance to shine.
Despite an impassioned try, they'd been unable to save the Matron from one of the golden rules of conspiracies. (“Really,” Donna would eventually ask, “do you have to try to save everyone?” Even a woman of immense compassion couldn't help but be concerned over what she called his “Superman” complex.) Donna, unable to watch the woman fall to her death, had startled him by turning into his side and clutching him.
But it had felt - once again - oddly pleasant to have her in his arms. And she smelled rather nice, too.
Funny how, thinking about it all, Rose's scent reminded him of Susan, and Martha's a bit of his first - arranged marriage - wife. Oi, no wonder he was so confused in his actions toward both of them. Scents were powerful things to a Time-Lord. His nose had helped him track many enemies over the centuries.
Of course, the scent of a Time-Lord was also powerful. And why he'd had to hide in the 1910s as a human.
He hadn't realized that Donna was already packed to come with him, her most important things (and by Rassilon, there were a lot of bags - although she would point out the practically multi-story nature of the TARDIS wardrobe in retaliation) in her mum's trunk. The Doctor felt relief knowing that she was still eager, even after their close call that evening, but Martha's words suddenly came back to haunt him. So he felt he had to caution her.
That went about as well as any of his recent ideas regarding companions. He really should have remembered that whole rubbish about feelings part and started with that...
When she practically shouted, “You're not mating with me, Sunshine,” he feared that she was changing her mind, and blurted out, “A friend! Besides, I couldn't mate right now even if I wanted to!”
Oh, Rassilon, did I just say that out loud? From the absolutely shocked expression on Donna's face (really, she wasn't that shocked through the whole of the previous adventure!), he had. Oh, what is it, he silently cried, about this Earth Girl that makes me admit things I swore I'd always - always! - keep to myself?!
While Donna's mouth moved, trying to make a sound but failing miserably, the Doctor was suddenly very afraid that she would change her mind once it was functional again. So he decided, as he had once overheard Jack Harkness say, go for broke. “Look, I'm... absolutely rubbish with recognizing and expressing feelings. It's made the lives of my last companions really difficult when it didn't have to be. They also let me push them aside in many ways, brushing off questions by letting them see just how alien I am. I don't see you letting me get away with that.”
Donna scoffed loudly, clearly recovered enough. “Well, you'd better believe it, Spaceman. Besides, you're a long streak of nothing! Alien nothing!”
Okay, he wasn't keen on that thought (and he couldn't figure out why), but it was better than dealing with blind devotion or hero worship. “Anyway, I want someone who sees me for me, and isn't completely disturbed whenever I do prove that I'm not human.”
Now she seemed puzzled. “Can't imagine how anyone who's been around you could think of you as anything but an alien with a box.”
“See, there! That's what I meant! You're the first human - maybe the first companion ever - to look at me and see past whatever front I'm putting on. I'm not sure I even remember what it's like to have a real friendship, And... I don't know what it is about you, but I've already trusted you with things I've never told anyone else.”
Donna laughed, disbelieving. “Come off it. You have to have told those stories to your past companions.”
“Only the grander stories.”
She paused, and whispered, “Really?”
He nodded. “I never felt like sharing what always seemed... insignificant or mundane. Or rather, so personal. But somehow... it makes sense to share those memories with you. And that's a first for my entire life.”
Donna looked very thoughtful. “Which is what? 100 years?”
The Doctor felt a smile threaten, but he ruthlessly squashed it. Too much at stake here, he thought. “Older.”
Her eyes widened. “200?”
The smile was harder to restrain. “Even older,” he said, amusement creeping into his voice.
She gasped. “What?! You're 500?!”
He finally couldn't suppress a short laugh. “Closer than the other two.”
Donna stepped a bit closer, as if horrifyingly fascinated. “Well, just how many bloody years old are you, anyway?”
How is she going to react, he worried. But... “903.”
She stared even harder, eyes roaming up and down his frame, obviously trying to reconcile in her mind that information with the youthful appearance before her. “How flippin' long does childhood last?!”
He had to think about that for several seconds. It'd been a long time since he'd spared a thought to the finer details of that period of his life. “Eh, that's complicated, and varies depending on one's maturity. Look, could we save that for another conversation when I'm a little more ready to discuss my past?”
Donna was silent for several long moments, which seemed like the longest of the Doctor's life. But she finally shrugged and smiled. “Guess I can deal with all of this. Has to be better than what my life has been like.”
Which he thought was really sad. He silently vowed to help her see just how magnificent she really was someday, somehow. Then he remembered one thing from their last time: the last thing he'd done for her. “What about your dog?”
“Ah, Gramps will take care of him. Not sure it's right to keep him on your ship, and I'm not sure she'd like it, either. I'm guessing things can get pretty exciting when traveling with you.” A big smile grew, showing just how excited she was over getting a second chance. “I mean, I can go, can't I?”
Thoughtful woman. Besides, she would keep him on his toes a lot. He returned the smile. “I think I'm really going to like having you around, Donna Noble.” He wanted to say that he'd love it, but Martha's words were still in his mind.
She was so excited she nearly ran to hug him - until she remembered her mother's keys. Shouting about being back in a moment, he found himself left with all the bags and an open TARDIS. He hesitated, not quite sure what to do, until his ship urged him to just bring in the bags and let Donna handle where to put them.
He couldn't help but note how pleased the TARDIS was to have Donna back. Guess she missed her, too.
He had no idea how smug his ship was feeling. Only a matter of time, she knew...
Chapter 7: Awkward... Very Awkward...