Author's note:Got this from fooling around with the Doctor Who Random Generator. What came out was... Wilfred Mott/Zoe Herriot, prompt: "a blizzard."

Hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think!

All characters here property of the BBC.


1967

Wil was driving his van down the small country lane, cursing mildly under his breath. Radio, and the telly, had predicted mild flurries, not another sodding off-season storm. He reached over to shift gears, and try cranking the heat a bit. It was already at highest.

Delivering papers to some of the smaller villages, he'd thought, would be light shift; he'd have time to get home to his girls earlier this evening, have a bit of a night out...

His thoughts derailed when he saw the small figure at the side of the road. "What the hell? Who would let their little girl out in this mess?!"

He pulled over, dragging on his heavy overcoat as he got out. "Miss, are you all right?"

As he came closer, he found he was both mistaken, and that he was probably just in time. She was quite short, but definitely no youngster; but by the same token, the rather scandalously tight one-piece suit she was wearing couldn't have protected her from the snowdrift that she was now standing in.

It was a wonder she hadn't frozen to death already.

She suddenly straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. She was shivering, her arms clutched about her. "Thank you, but I am fine," she said. "I am waiting for the Doctor; he told me to wait here, and he would be along directly."

Wil stared at her a moment, then spoke slowly and carefully. "Good, the doctor's coming. You've called him then?" Dear lord, she was already feverish. No wonder she was out here dressed like that. He glanced back at the relative comfort of his van...

"Oh, I don't need to," she replied. "It's all part of his plan." She studied his face with a frown, then gave him a smile. "Oh, I see! You are concerned for my welfare amidst the unseasonal cold of this storm!"

"Er. Yes." He was deeply worried now.

"Do not be concerned. My clothing is rated for-"

Wil brought himself back to his senses, whipped his coat off, and wrapped it around her. Amidst her protests, he picked her up and began to carry her back to the van.

"But the Doctor! He expected me to-"

"This doctor, if he is any kind of a gentleman," growled Wil, "should expect to meet you at the next rest stop, at least. Somewhere warm."

She ceased struggling in his grip, and her face assumed a thoughtful pose. "Yes, that would be the most logical step in this situation," she said, as Wil bundled her into the passenger's seat and shut the door. "Mind you, he is often distressingly illogical!"

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2008

Wilfred heard the doorbell, and ran over to open the door to...

"Granddad!" Donna rushed up and buried her face in his shoulder. He looked over hers, in turn, to see the Doctor grinning at him. He grinned right back.

He glanced down. "Hey there, little girl, you want to get offa me before I fall over?"

She stood up again. "Sorry."

"No problem." He smiled. "You want to get the tea? I've had it on for a while, hope it's not gone over..."

She gave him one of her heart-melting grins. "Right on it, gramps!" She hustled off to the kitchen.

When she had gone, the Doctor had already let himself in, and shut the door. He was about to follow Donna, when he suddenly felt himself halted by a hand on his arm.

"She was awfully bundled up," said Wilifred mildly.

The Doctor turned to him. "That she is. Tea is an excellent suggestion, by the way." His eyes stared into Wilfred's, a blank challenge.

"Don't be concerned with me," he said. "I know my little Donna's safe with you." He chuckled, then eyed the Time Lord with a bit of challenge of his own. "How do I know you're still safe with her, eh?"

The Doctor stared at him a moment, startled, then let out a hearty laugh. "Wilf, old sock, you are all right!" He slapped him on the back. "Think I have a gift for you this time 'round," he said.

Wilfred perked up. "Something from another world?"

"Could be," said the Doctor.

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Wilfred tutted slightly, but went to pick up Donna's discarded coat. "Doctor," he said, "I believe my wayward granddaughter has-"

"I told her to leave it."

He looked up, an eyebrow raised. "It's a good coat, Doctor," he said, "and I'm quite sure my Donna could use it again, what with-"

"Consider it a Christmas present," said the Doctor quietly. "Zoe had wanted it back to its owner, anyway."

His features softened a moment.

"I had always wondered who the considerate young man was that she kept talking about, who had saved her from the cold." He shook his head. "It was... well, I'd say it was pretty short-sighted of me to tell her to wait there. You kept her alive. So, thanks for that."

The Doctor grasped his shoulder. "Consider it a payment on an old debt, if nothing else."

Wilfred looked startled, then back at the coat. A faint memory stirred...

He flipped it open, looked at the collar.

'W. Mott.'

"D... Doct..." He looked up-

He, and Donna, were already gone.