Of all the pleasure planets Donna and the Doctor had visited, this one was definitely the most luxurious. Everything that could be made of plush, from the carpets to the toilet paper, was as soft and squishy as a marshmallow cloud. The climate, from temperature to humidity to sunlight, was controlled by weather satellites that ensured every day was a perfect day, from charming little rain showers to warm summer days under a lovely violet sky. The shopping was fantastic, and the food! Oh, the food: it was everywhere, and it was delicious! K-tanf chefs were the best in the galaxy, and there were foods found here you couldn't get anywhere else. There was a fruit that tasted of cheesecake!

Yes, this was most definitely the PERFECT planet for a little rest and relaxation.

Naturally, that made the Doctor cranky: he never could stand to see her having a good time. "Boring!" he'd said, mere minutes after arriving. "Just a big, stupid planet of boring! I can't believe I let you talk me into coming here…"

"No one said you had to stay," Donna murmured, nonplussed; she was busy trying on a pair of what appeared to be sunglasses. "I, for one, could use a bit of a rest…and something to eat. Let's try that restaurant we saw from the electric tram, it looked fun."

"Fun," the Doctor scoffed, though quieter this time: she had moved within elbowing distance. "If you call sitting around on ultra-sonic liquid massaging chairs and eating galaxy-class food while listening to a chorus of 10,000 perfectly synchronized Tamba shell resonators Ifun/I…"

Donna stopped and raised an eyebrow. The Doctor paused to take it in. "Yeah, all right," he conceded. "I suppose that it's a sort of fun, for some people…"

The entire interior of the restaurant was designed with balance and harmony in mind. One cool, misty color melted into another; the wall was covered with mosaics crafted from tiny bits of iridescent shell; the furniture appeared to grow up out of the ground organically, and the music was both awe-inspiring and unobtrusive. The massaging chairs were like sitting on a tingling ball of jelly, and the food was just as good as Donna could have hoped. She was more than pleased with their little excursion, and even the Doctor was starting to chill out and relax. (Though he was still sonic-ing bits of silverware at random in a bid to do God-only-knows what. Donna didn't ask. She was too busy trying the cheesecake fruit.)

They were nearly done with the meal, and the Doctor was performing some complex calculations with their bill. (She wasn't positive, but she was pretty sure he was using pi somehow to figure out their tip…) Donna was leaning back in her chair, enjoying the ethereal music of the shells, when a rather handsome-looking gentleman happened to pass by on the way back from the toilets. He did a double take as he passed their table, nearly screeching to a halt.

"Doctor?"

"No no, thank you," the Doctor mumbled, still intent on the bill. "We've already had dessert—twice!"

The man turned to Donna with a smirk. She returned the gesture, and rolled her eyes. "Wake UP, you prawn! This isn't the waiter…"

Finally, the Doctor put down the bill and turned his eyes to their new arrival. "Jack! Hello!" he cried, leaping up to pull the man into a hug. "Donna, it's Jack!"

"So I see!" She extended her hand. "I'm Donna, it's nice to meet you."

He raised the hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Charmed." The mischievous glint to his eye brought a spot of color to each of her cheeks.

"Jack…" the Doctor warned, before swiftly changing the subject. "So, what brings you to this end of the galaxy?"

"Same as you two, I imagine; what else do you come here for? Rest, relaxation—food!" This last bit was said with genuine enthusiasm.

"You can say that again," Donna broke in, eyeing for the first time a substantial bulge beneath the man's shirt. "Look at you! Just how many trips did you make to the buffet?"

"Donna…" the Doctor was trying very hard to catch her eye.

"Blimey! Did you leave any for the rest of us?"

"Donna!" His voice was urgent now. "Donna, I don't think…"

"Oh, come on; I was just teasing! Jack knows I was just teasing. It's all right if he enjoys a bit of food…"

"Donna, I don't think it's 'a bit of food' that we're talking about…"

"Well no, it'd take quite more than a bit, eh?" she turned to Jack with a beaming grin.

The Doctor was still desperately trying to give her the hint. "Donna, you don't understand, he's…"

"Pregnant." Jack finally put an end to their little pantomime show and answered with a grin; it only got wider as Donna looked as if her eyes might fall out of her head.

"You're what now?" She nearly choked on her after dinner mint.

"Pregnant. Expecting. Eating for two, as they say!" Jack was really starting to enjoy himself now.

"But you can't be! You're a man, aren't you?"

"Man as they come," he confirmed with a wink.

"But how can…?"

"Donna!" the Doctor interjected. "Perhaps we should stop pestering Jack with questions that can be answered later, and offer him a seat?"

"Yes, of course!" she answered, recovering quickly. "In your condition, you should get off your feet as often as you can!"

Jack took the proffered chair, and pulled himself up to their table. Donna was still staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers.

"I just don't believe there's a baby in there…" she couldn't help but add.

The Doctor was going to warn her again, when Jack stopped him. "No Doctor, it's all right! I can prove it to you." He turned to Donna with a mischievous twinkle to his eye. "You wanna feel the baby kick?"

She was reaching out to his belly when she realized just where he was guiding her hand. Quickly, she drew it back and treated him to a patented Donna Glare. "Don't even try it, buster!"