Warning: Contains mild swear words, and scenes of a drunken nature.

Summary: After shopping on a planet, the Doctor eats some fruit and becomes drunk. Written for a prompt given by louiecat68.

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who and its characters, I wouldn't live here for a start!


Chapter 1 - One More Drink Doctor?

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Why? Why did this sort of thing always happen to her? Wasn't it bad enough that the only man that had been interested in her in the last few years wanted to feed her to a flipping enormous spider? They'd tried having a nice shopping trip, and now the Doctor was slowly sliding down a brick wall with the silliest expression on his face ever!

Not only that, his hearing seemed to have been turned down as well. Donna knelt next to him and considered his current state. "Are you alright, Doctor? Can you stand?" she tested any possible answer by pulling on his arm.

The Doctor giggled, and grinned at her with heavy-lidded eyes, "I'm alright Donna, I'm always alright! You know that! But I do feel weird, I can't," he rolled his tongue around his mouth, "I don't think I can feel parts of my mouth! Why's that Donna?"

"How the hell should I know that!" she grumbled at him. "What did you have to drink?"

"I haven't had anything more than water, and I made sure I ate something like you told me to," he slurred. At her questioning look, he continued, "Honest! I had some of those delicious apple-y banana things they had on a special dish. They said I could have as many as I liked!"

Donna leant forward and smelt his breath; there was a hint of banana, apple and definitely alcohol. "They spiked your food," she informed him. "Either that or they grow alcohol in easily portable food parcels."

He hiccupped, "That sounds fammy… famma… familiar now that you say that!" He looked forlornly at Donna, "Help me, Donna! You have so much more experience of feeling like this than me!"

"And if you carry on insulting me in that backhanded manner I'll leave you to experience it all on your own!" Donna threatened him, though she couldn't imagine herself being so cruel as to leave him there on the ground. It was dark, freezing cold and eerily empty in this part of the planet.

He held out a hand and tried to caress her face, but the hand slid off, making him giggle again, "I'd never insult you, Donna. Do you know why?"

"Oh, please tell me," Donna sarcastically begged as she started to help him up on to his feet by grabbing his arm and hoisting him up.

"Because you are brilliant!" he unsteadily flung out his free arm, and almost twirled into the brick wall.

"Yeah, you've said that before," Donna took his arm and propped it around her neck. She almost stumbled when he leant most of his weight onto her, and waved his free hand in her face.

"But there's more, Donna," he stopped short, making her almost fall again; and she had to use all her strength to get him to move in a forward motion. "You're… you're…you're…"

"I think you've scratched your record, Sunshine! Care to try a different word in that sentence?" she couldn't wait to hear the next bit, well, she could if he talked the same amount of codswallop most drunks spoke.

His free hand waved a bit too near to her breast for comfort, "…lovely! Did you know that?" he told her as he pushed his face into her neck, and licked her, of all things!

What was it with him and licking stuff? "Oi! I'm not a lollipop! So stop licking me!" she ordered him.

"Ooh! A Donna flavoured lollipop! How great would that be?" he grinned at her.

"One way to make everyone sick, I suppose," Donna answered, trying to swing his head away from her neck. It was beginning to creep her out.

He licked her neck again! "Nope, wouldn't make them sick by tasting you," he declared. "Make them sick because you're mine!"

Donna almost involuntarily vomited. "I'm yours, am I? How exactly did I become yours?"

He placed a small kiss where he'd just licked her neck, "I claim this Donna… in the name of…" and kissed her neck a second time. They almost lost their balance completely when he consequently staggered and had a fit of the giggles.

"Could be worse," Donna eyed him, when she regained control of their trajectory. "And you're not doing the Ministry of Silly Walks."

"Are you saying my walk is silly?" he mumbled from his new favourite place against her neck.

"No, it's not that part of you I find silly," she made one last concerted effort to get him to walk properly as she saw the TARDIS ahead. "Almost home!"

He lifted his head as if he'd just seen a squirrel. "Ah! There's the TARDIS!" he decided to tell the whole world. Donna felt that this world deserved to be woken up by his loudness as punishment for getting him drunk and, therefore, becoming her responsibility to get home safely.

"Thank God!" Donna muttered to herself, as she got him to balance against the TARDIS door while she fumbled for her key. The Doctor grinned inanely at her as he pitched forward, and she manoeuvred him onto the ramp with a swinging motion.

Unfortunately, the Doctor immediately assumed it was a dancing situation and waltzed her into the TARDIS. Donna was caught between being amused and bloody annoyed, but she decided to let her amusement take precedence. "You've no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he breathed into her ear, giving her a semi-blast of alcoholic fumes.

"Well I've never stopped you dancing with anyone, you prawn," she told him.

"No. No you don't… you don't understand," he halted their dancing progress around the console, and looked directly into her eyes. "I wanted to dance with you, but... but I… I couldn't."

"Okay, I'll probably regret asking this, but why couldn't you?" she searched his face for any possible clues. She was surprised when he giggled yet again.

"I'm not…," he took a deep breath, "I'm not allowed to tell you."

"Oh, for the love of Pete! Why not?" she demanded. "This is getting to be worse than finding out the Riddle of the Sphinx!"

"Ah now! That one I do know," he touched the side of his nose in an old-fashioned knowing gesture. "And you know what else I know?"

"Go on then," Donna encouraged him half-heartedly, expecting some piece of nonsense to fall out of his mouth.

"You want me to…," and he lunged at her, grabbing hold of the sides of her head and kissing her. Donna tried to fight him off, but he was surprisingly strong and determined. He obviously saw it as a battle between them both that he had to win. He invaded her mouth and took control.

When he finally let go of her, she pulled back to punch his lights out; but he beat her to it and dropped like a stone to the floor. She resisted the urge to kick him instead, and prodded him with her foot. There was no sign of intelligent life.

"Isn't that wizard!" she angrily considered his prone form. "And I'd thought getting you as far as here would be enough!"

She tried to lift the Doctor, but he was a dead weight, so she decided to try a different method; she rolled him over and slapped him hard across the face. He stirred, much to Donna's relief. Her hand flipping hurt! She was well out of practise doing that sort of thing.

He looked at her extremely groggily, "What?"

"Come on, Spaceman, upsy daisy! Let's get you to bed," she hoisted him up, with his help, for the third time that evening.

"Are you coming with me?" he meekly asked.

"I'm coming as far as the bed, if that's what you mean," she manoeuvred him down the corridor towards his bedroom, thankful that he was easier to steer this time.

"You're welcome to get into bed with me," he tried out his cheekiest drunken grin.

"Thanks, I think?" Donna pushed him downwards onto his bed. He pathetically sat there, looking lost. "Do you need help undressing?"

He fumbled with his buttons, "I can undress myself… or… or… would you like to undress me?"

"No, not really, but I will if I have to," she told him matter of factly. She pulled off his jacket and then yanked off his shoes. "Anything else you want removed you'll have to do yourself. I'm not risking it considering you've been so frisky."

His hands tried to grab her waist and caught her wrist instead. "What about my goodnight kiss?" he tried to purr at her, and fell backwards onto the bed taking Donna with him. "Ooh! You're keen!"

"And you're an idiot!" she swatted his arm. "Now let me go."

"But Donna! I need to tell you…" he began.

"What? What do you need to tell me?" she looked down at him and was amazed to see he'd fallen asleep already. She extricated herself from his grip and covered him over with a blanket. "Perhaps you'll tell me whatever it was in the morning?" she pondered, before turning out the light and leaving him.

Several hours later the Doctor slowly woke up, wondering where he was, how he got there, why he was still in his clothes, and why he had the taste of make up in his mouth. He crawled out of bed and made his way to his bathroom, steeling himself to look in the mirror and assess the damage. He expected the emphasised bed-hair and the five o'clock shade; he didn't expect the red hand print, or the lipstick smeared all over his lower face. As he peered blinkingly at his image he realised that he recognised that shade of lipstick from somewhere. The cogs in his memory ground rustily to provide flashes of what had happened the night before: eating fruit with the planet's inhabitants, their joint glee, trying to find the TARDIS, colliding with a wall, Donna rescuing him, smelling Donna, tasting Donna's neck, and finally,… oh dear!

Putting a soap and flannel to good use, he cleaned himself up enough to be presentable. He made his way out of his room and used the wall to guide him into the kitchen, thankful that the TARDIS had dimmed the lights enough for him for it to be this side of bearable. A steamy hot cup of coffee sat on the table waiting for him and a pile of toast sat in the toast rack. The thing he was worried about was the person sitting watching his progress into the kitchen.

"Morning Donna," he hoped he sounder brighter to her ears than he did to his own.

"Morning Doctor," she turned in her seat to view him better. "How are you feeling today?" she asked, keeping her voice deliberately louder in volume, and enjoying seeing him wince in response. Serve the blighter right!

He mumbled something as a reply, and grabbed the coffee, whilst carefully not looking her in the eye.

"So, are you going to tell me?" Donna suddenly demanded.

"Tell you what?" he quietly replied, averting his gaze again by taking a piece of toast to munch.

"I dunno, you tell me! What ever it was, you said you had to tell me," Donna stared at him, willing him to look at her. "Just before you keeled over."

He blushed at the memory that flashed into his mind. "About last night…," he stammered, "I shouldn't… I didn't… if you want… why did I… I can't begin to… thank you Donna."

Donna smiled at the Doctor, feeling extremely gratified that she'd rendered him almost speechless as he tried to apologise to her. It returned her faith in him, and made her feel safe again. The thought of living with a letch have made her shudder before he'd redeemed himself.

"Got a little something on your face there, Spaceman," she grinned at him as she leant over and examined his face. "Looks like guilt to me."

The Doctor blushed even deeper under her scrutiny. "Yeah, could be," he agreed. "Considering what I…"

"Let's not go there, okay?" Donna kindly offered, "Alcohol does weird things to people, and even Time Lords it would seem." She got up and took her breakfast things to the sink. "What were you going to tell me? It's been bugging me like crazy" she turned to ask him.

"I've no idea," he lied, and stuffed some toast into his mouth to prevent more words coming out.

Donna saw the action and decided to leave it be for the time being. She was certain she'd get it out of him eventually.

As for the Doctor, well, he was plotting his own alcohol-related adventure involving a certain Donna Noble, that could be described as an experiment, a data gathering situation with a controlled variant, or any other fancy label you liked. In short, he was going to try and get Donna drunk enough to find out a truth of his own.

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