Chapter Nine


"Shower?" she echoed. "Are you seriously trying to order me about, Sunshine? And what's this about our bedroom? Why do you think I want to sleep with you again?"

His dark angry eyes suddenly changed to intensely hurt as he gazed at her; his breath seemed to catch in his throat. "You don't want to sleep with me? But... Donna! Last night was the best night's sleep I'd had in years, and... and I... I liked sleeping with you. You're all warm and soft," he gave her the full kicked puppy look.

"I gathered that you liked our sleeping arrangements last night. Okay, I wasn't too unhappy with them too. But it is not right to carry on sharing the same bed," she argued.

"Why? Why can't we? I know I keep coming back to this point, but we ARE married!" he huffed.

"Are we though? I'm not so sure. It sure didn't feel like a real wedding ceremony to me," she admitted.

"That's because you are confusing it with a modern service in an Anglican church; like the one you almost had with Lance," he pointed out.

"Did you have to bring him up? No, take that back, as Lance typifies what I'm on about." She paused to gather her thoughts. "Weddings, fairy tale weddings, happen to other people. I've been a bridesmaid at quite a few of them so I know what I'm on about!" she told him with a snort. "The wedding when you met me only underlined for me that I'm not meant to be married; it isn't allowed. Don't you see?"

He took in her desperate agitation and morally-low feelings. He moved his hands from pinning her to the wall behind her down to grasp her hands. "Donna, have you thought what else it might mean?" She shook her head at him. "It means you are meant to be with me, here, as my wife. That was a genuine, proper service with all the bells and trimmings. As far as Earth is concerned we are definitely married, for good."

"So you're lumbered with me? On paper I mean, since you could kick me out the door if you so wanted," she gave a defensive little shrug.

"Yes, you're here to stay, if you want; here with me forever," he brought his face nearer to hers now. "Do you want to, Donna?"

Her eyes flitted desperately around his face, looking for something in particular. "You know I don't want to leave you, so why are you asking? Was this all some major put up job so that you could tease me about wanting to get married? If it is I'm not laughing! I know what you look like naked now and I will use that information against you!" she threatened.

"Ah! But I know the same about you, so is that a wise move?" he grinned at her.

"What do you mean? I had my back to you!" she was extremely miffed.

"And a lovely back it is too!" he lifted a hand to caress some of her hair, giving into the impulse now. "I wasn't going to tell you but that nightgown you wore wasn't very... thick. In fact I'd say it was transparent."

"But... but... you never complained you could see through it!" she looked at him in shock.

"Why would I? I liked the view," he reasoned.

"You're doing it again! The whole 'ooh Matron!' routine!" she turned her gaze to catch his fingers stroking through her hair. "Why are you doing all this?"

"Well... I think they call it loving your wife in your neck of the woods. Or seduction; that's an excellent word. Hmm... seduction," he rolled the word around on his tongue.

She found herself watching his mouth in a whole new light, and quickly gave herself a mental shake. "So, you're feeling a bit frisky after wearing that chastity belt yesterday?" she tried to reason out his behaviour.

"That reminds me! I might need you to double check that everything looks and feels okay. Would you do that for me?" he gave her a look she couldn't quite make out.

"Wifely duties again, huh? When do you want me to look? Right this second?" she dropped her gaze down to his trousers and totally missed his mouthed 'oh yes!'

"After we've showered will be fine. Shall we meet back here in ten minutes or so?" He waited for Donna's nod of approval. "You'll recognise me easily. I'll be wearing a bath towel. Will you be carrying a copy of Pride & Prejudice?"

She laughed and playfully swatted his arm. "And to think Lady Marion thought you were a catch! Some people don't have the brains they were born with!"

He kissed her cheek, "I'm glad you added to yours."

"What exactly does that mean?" she asked as he moved away.

"Nothing dear!" he mockingly threw at her as he headed for his shower.

He returned to their designated bedroom 10.7 minutes later, but he was sure she would not have been counting, and sat on the bed to wait for her. The sound of the shower stopped as he parked himself, and he fought hard with his imagination to stop being bombarded with guesstimates about how the water trickled down her wet skin, over her full breasts and down her stomach towards... 'Down boy!' he told himself. All the fun might be over before he'd even confirmed his imaginings. "Are you okay in there? Do you need any help?" he called out.

"No thanks! I think I can wield a towel after all these years of practise!" she called back. "Did you need to go and get your cream again?"

"I think I'll wait until we get the results of your inspection before I do, if you don't mind? I might need something else!" he continued to yell at her.

She stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe, "What sort of something else? Or can I easily guess that one?" She gave him a knowing smirk, "Something that might have arisen by some chance?"

"Well, something might have popped up... You know," he gave her a cheeky wink. He deliberately lay back on the bed, his arms propped behind his head so that he could contemplate her. "Nothing you can't handle, surely?"

"A little thing like that? No problem!" She climbed onto the bed next to him, satisfied that her words got a wounded reaction. "Right, let the dog see the rabbit," she took hold of the edge of his towel and lifted it away. "Hmm...I think we might have to amputate."

"What?" he exclaimed in shock; and then he caught her expression. "You saucy minx! You think you've got me right where you want me!"

"It's a good position, I admit that!" she grinned broadly at him. "And generally things are on the up! So there are good prospects. While I think of it, I need to buy Gramps some bait for when he goes fishing."

He sat up abruptly and caught her hand. "Are you saying I look like a small worm? Seriously?"

"Nah! I wouldn't say that! A medium sized one at least...," she mischievously smiled at him.

He shoved her down onto the bed. "You need taking in hand, young lady, and I'm the Time Lord to do it! Now answer the original flipping question: does everything look alright now?" he hovered over her mouth, sorely tempted to take full possession of her now, good and hard. He momentarily shut his eyes as he tried to force out the thought of 'good and hard' from his mind, but things below him were having their own thoughts it would seem.

Donna flicked a glance at his 'problem', "It seems fine to me, but then I have no idea what normal is for you. Those dimensionally controlled trousers of yours hide that I'm afraid. But as I said, it looks fine... definitely fine!"

"You can rub pretend cream on me if you like," he offered, causing Donna to laugh like a drain.

"I bet you'd like that! Would that be with a specially home-grown hand-picked method... And why do I sound like a Birds Eye Peas advert now?" she laughed. "Did you want me for anything else before I go and get dressed?"

"Yes!" he replied hurriedly. "There's something else I wanted to show you."

"You did? What?" she barely got the question out before he brought his lips down on top of hers.

He moved delicately over her mouth, teasing apart her lips with his tongue, until she opened to him; letting him taste her varied tones, and drinking in her body. He groaned loudly when she let out a small moan, answering her primitive call. He released her so that she could take a breath. "That was worth being shown," she uttered, and they both giggled together.

"Do you want to be shown again?" he asked huskily.

"I don't think I noticed enough the first time. Yeah, show me again!" she reached up to capture his mouth this time. Hungrily they shared kiss after glorious kiss.

He moved his body against hers, creating a pressing need to take matters further. "Oh Donna!" he passionately moaned, turning his attention to her voluptuous curves and succulent breasts. He couldn't get enough of her softness, her scent or the taste of her skin. "I think I've died and gone to heaven."

"Eugh! Gross! Does that make you a necrophiliac, or me?" Donna pondered.

"Why on TARDIS are you thinking about dead bodies, you strange woman? I was enjoying myself here!" he griped.

"I never said you had to stop, did I? In fact, that bit you did then... yes, THAT bit... do that again!" she encouraged him.

"I can do that with added oomph if you like?" he offered.

"What do you mean...?" she began to ask, before crying out with delight as he paid careful attention to her body. She thought it couldn't get better than that; and then he entered her, filling her in all ways imaginable. "Bloody Hell!" she cried out in ecstasy. "You might not do this often, but you certainly know what you're doing!"

"And all this is yours on a nightly basis, with added morning and afternoon access. Batteries not included," he replied.

She playfully swatted his bottom in reply, and they laughed yet again. Then by mutual consent they moved together, letting their passion build and overflow; both of them crying out in delight.

"I think you might have been right about this marriage lark," she whispered once they were suitably sated. They shared a brief kiss. "But don't tell anyone I said that."

"Yes dear!" he mocked, and they shared a contented smile.

"What I don't understand is: why do we always end up being married in one way or another? Why is everyone obsessed with us shacking up?" she asked with a huff as she stretched out lazily on their bed.

He slowly kissed her shoulder. "It is a bind, isn't it? We don't have to worry about it now though."

She moved to give him better access to her neck. "It just gets my goat! I'll decide when I get married, thank you very much!" She trailed her hand down his body, "That belt thing caused you any lasting damage? I hope not."

He felt himself respond to her tender touch, "Doesn't seem to have, but I might need to run a few tests." He kissed his way down to her cleavage, "Collect some data personally."

"Who gets control of the pencil?" she asked, suppressing a groan.

"Pencil?" he protested indignantly. "You need to reacquaint yourself with me, love."

"Do you know what? I think you're right!" she leered at him. "I might get to like your experiments."

"You'll like them even more when they go sonic!" he promised. Her shriek of excitement was all the answer he wanted.