Rating: PG

Summary: The Doctor and Donna attend the Ambassador of Flerch's reception.

Disclaimer: I once owned these characters; and then I woke up!

A/N: This was written in response the Time Travellers' Tales Prompt #21 – ambassador at doctor_donna.

A/N2: Another brand name dropped into a fic; another wasted opportunity on their part to sponsor me [though if anyone from Ferrero Rocher is reading this… I'm open to offers!].


Part 1

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"My Lord Doctor and my Lady Donna Noble of Tardis!" the voice of the toastmaster rang out as they stood at the entrance to the ballroom.

"Blimey this is grand!" Donna muttered under her breath so that only the Doctor could hear. "Point me towards the Ferrero Rocher."

"They serve more than chocolates at these things, Donna," the Doctor chuckled.

"Maybe… But I'm dying to say the tagline, 'Mr Ambassador you spoil us'!" she grinned impishly at him.

"No, don't do that," he steered her away from a particularly large tray of nibbles that was threatening to collide with her head.

"Who would you say is the fittest bloke in the room?" she swept her gaze around the room and completely missed his answering frown.

"You mean apart from…? I don't know," he too examined the room. There were many beings looking grand in their dress uniforms, any of whom could attract Donna's attention at any moment. "Perhaps we ought to try over here?" he started to lead her towards a group of males who looked as if they'd eaten the ugly stick at birth after having been hit with it first, of course.

"They look a bit…," Donna found herself lost for words as she considered the 'men' in front of her. "Does everybody around here resemble a Twiglet?"

"Are you back to the 'long streak of nothing' again? Or are we talking about acquired tastes?" he turned his full attention onto her.

"Neither of those," she giggled. "I was thinking in terms of knobbly features!"

"Oh! Right! That works too!" he agreed awkwardly before breaking into a smile. "So, are you a fan of Marmite?"

"Sometimes; and you ask the weirdest questions at inappropriate times!" she answered his smile. "I don't go around asking you if you prefer… oh I don't know… butter or margarine!"

"Ah!" he brought his lips close to her ear, raising a spate of goosebumps in their wake. "That would be telling. And it depends what it's being spread upon!"

"You are officially the oddest bloke I have ever known!" she pealed with laughter. "If anyone else had said that I'd have taken it as a piece of innuendo."

"But it was said by me; so how are you taking it? Or how would you like to take it?" he leaned in close again.

She swatted his arm. "Stop it! You'll make me have an accident laughing; and I'm trying to be all sophisticated here!"

"That'll give you a run for your money," he murmured.

"Listen here, Timeboy, just 'cos you whisper it don't mean I can't hear it! Or that it won't go unpunished!" she glared at him.

"No chance of an accident now then," he smugly looked at her.

She retained some of her glare, "None whatsoever thanks!" she turned towards the nearby buffet table and took a snack as gracefully as she could, then stuffed it into her mouth. "Urgh! What the…" she only just managed to avoid spitting it out onto the Doctor's Converses.

He patted her back. "Careful there, Donna. You'll do yourself an injury."

"I'll do you more than an injury in a minute if you don't find me something normal to eat!" she almost snapped at him in distress. "That's left a disgusting taste in my mouth."

"Do you want me to get you a glass of something alcoholic and fizzy?" he gestured towards a drinks tray on the table.

"Yes please, and don't spare the horses!" she eyed the glasses with delight.

"I can't promise a horse, but it should give you a kick," he handed her a glass and took a sip from one of his own.

Donna sipped from her own glass and almost blanched. "Flipping heck! That was a kick in the head all right! Are all the drinks like that here?"

"No, but only because they don't need another drink round here!" he smiled broadly at her.

"You might want to try the bromberry juice if it is not to your liking," a tall being said to Donna as he sidled up to her. He looked quite impressive in his dress military uniform as he stuck out his hand towards her, "I'm Captain Wentbury of the Royal Corps, and you my dear are…?"

She'd just got out the word 'Donna' when the Doctor butted in with "About to dance with me!" and swept her onto the dancefloor before she could catch her breath.

"What the hell was that about?" she whispered menacingly into his ear, since his grasp held her firmly against his chest. "He was only being polite. I don't think it was an assassination attempt on me or anything."

"He was clearly carrying weapons, Donna," the Doctor defended himself whilst he tried desperately to decide why he'd done it too!

"That sword thing on his hip? That's probably made of rubber!" she sneered. "That'd do me a massive injury as it erases your latest mistake."

He huffed. "Not rubber, but bone for your information. The bone of an extremely rare type of whale."

"Whale? Ew!" her nose scrunched up in disgust. "I thought that sort of thing was outlawed." Her features softened as she considered him, "You must hate the fact they're used in that way!"

He ran his hand more firmly round her waist, pulling her closer still, and making her breath hitch. "I do; very much," he whispered.

"And all because some snobby bloke wants to impress some bird!" she gave a low whistle. "Though I wish somebody wanted to go to all that effort to impress me!"

He gulped. "I'm sure somebody in the universe wants to do that, Donna."

"Well, if you see him, can you give him a message from me?" she smiled then brought her lips tantalisingly close to his ear. "Tell him to hurry up!"

The music stopped abruptly, giving him no chance to reply beyond a squeak of remorse. "Donna, do you…?" he began to ask, but Donna had moved away from his grasp and was approaching a nearby set of embellished doors that led out onto a patio with a magnificent view of the Ambassador's gardens.

"Wow! Would you look at that!" she breathed heavily, making her way towards the doors automatically. A flunky immediately opened the doors for her to glide through, so the Doctor closely followed her.

"Would you and your husband like some refreshments, ma'am?" the flunky asked her as she passed him.

"Oh we…" she hesitated for a second.

"Would love some juice," the Doctor finished for her.

Donna waited until the flunky bowed and moved away before she quizzed him. "Why did you do that?"

"Didn't you want a drink? Sorry, I thought you did," he apologised as he joined her on the patio.

"No, you know very well what I mean!" she tried to pin him with a look but he was avoiding her glare. "Why did you let the 'husband' comment go?"

"You did too!" he accused her, but still averted his gaze.

"Excuse me! You didn't exactly give me the chance, did you? Butting in like that," she studied him as he stood in profile. Why was he acting this way? It wasn't like him at all. "Are you feeling alright? Has something disagreed with you?"

"Apart from you, do you mean?" he smiled in her direction, but he looked strained.

Concerned now for his welfare, she took hold of his arm and hugged it. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong? I might be able to help," she softly offered.

"Donna… I…," he blinked owlishly, staring into her compassionate eyes, "think I should meet the Ambassador properly and get this dispute fixed."

"Oakie dokie, Spaceman! Just tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it for you," she gazed back into his intense brown eyes.

For a moment he didn't care that the local Vhorgians had an axe to grind, that the Ambassador of Flerch needed to pull his finger out, that helpless people were suffering as a result; all he could think about was the fact he stood there with Donna by his side, and she was beautiful. The spell was broken by the re-appearance of the flunky.

He allowed himself to be distracted by the arrival of their drinks; distracted away from the pleasing flush upon Donna's skin, the scent of her hair, the affects her words had upon him and the feel of her hands moments ago. The Doctor swallowed his drink thoughtfully. "Do you think you could, perhaps, coerce the Ambassador into dancing with you for a short while?" he asked her.

"I'll give it a go," she told him enthusiastically. "You'll have to point him out to me again first."

He placed a hand gently on her lower back and guided her into the ballroom once more. "I think that's him," he pointed out a being covered with rich fabrics and gold braid. "Diplomats love all the fancy stuff."

"What makes you think he'll look at me twice then?" she twinkled at him, mischief bubbling under the surface.

"It'll be all that Ferrero Rocher you promised to eat!" he winked at her, and got a giggling swat for his troubles. As he watched her sashay towards the Ambassador he really did hope it was the thought of chocolate that made her walk that way!

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