Disclaimer: Oh to be able to say I own this pair! *adds them to my wish list again*
A/N: I was told to let the plot bunnies get me on this one and write the prequel! So I blame you, okay?
A/N2: I should explain that in Britain we are not generally knowledgeable about Jewish customs and food (or even Mexican food come to that, for the people who couldn't believe Catherine Tate didn't know how to eat a taco). What we know is learnt through American films. The official favourite meal here is a curry, so what does that tell you…?

Fighting The Moment


It had been a lovely day out. They had been to a local London market to do some last minute Christmas shopping, had then gone on to a primary school where Donna's friend was a teaching assistant to help out with a Christmas bizarre; and then decide to catch the bus home. All in all it had been a very productive day, helping a good cause whilst stuffing themselves silly with all sorts of goodies on the way.

As usual, they had laughed continuously; and had needed to hold hands to stop themselves from slipping over. The pavements had been treacherous with the amount of ice about. And if a few people assumed things about their relationship, well, they had merely waved them off as they usually did. The world couldn't touch their joint happiness as they headed back.

They could have walked home, to where the TARDIS was parked outside Sylvia's house, or caught a taxi; but they decided that they would treat themselves to a bus ride. Unsurprisingly, the Doctor had enthused at great length about London buses, and Donna had let him. Also unsurprisingly, he didn't have any money on him, so she ended up paying for the both of them; but it was worth it, she decided when she saw the look of joy on his face when the bus pulled up at the bus stop.

The warmth of the bus welcomed them in as they joined several other passengers on their journey home. It didn't matter that they had to stand because they were travelling together, and it was the best feeling in the world. Well, she had long thought that until the movement of the crowded bus caused something new to replace it. The fact was, somehow she ended up standing within his arms, and the instant it happened she knew she never wanted to leave.

As he held her close on the bus platform she could feel the impulse to just reach up and kiss him. It wouldn't take much effort. But to do so would be wrong, it'd jeopardise their friendship, even though his body seemed to be egging her on. When the bus had jerked around a corner, he had wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pinning her between him and the grab pole. She knew he had done it to keep her safe; he was always watching out for her safety. But somehow this was different - he should have shifted his hold on her by now, stepped back or pulled a comical face to cover any possible embarrassment but he hadn't. Instead she had been forced to hold onto his upper arms or shoulders in return, forming a lovers' embrace. And there was love in their embrace, of some sort. She could see it clearly in his eyes when she risked lifting her head to meet his expression. 'Fondness' is the word she would have chosen to describe the emotion she saw there, as his eyes seemed to soften and his head tipped forward.

Before she could question the action, his lips swept against hers, kissing her with such sweetness and tenderness. She barely had the chance to respond when he stopped and pulled back. "Hello. Merry Christmas," he whispered, smiling mischievously; his breath still warm with hints from the hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts they had had earlier.

She smiled broadly back at him. "Hello to you too; and 'merry Christmas'. What did I do to deserve that?"

"Oh, you know," he blustered. "Just saying 'hello'."

"Am I allowed to say hello back?"

His eyes lit up with glee. "Of course," he replied, bending down slightly to cover the short distance between them.

On a bus! They were kissing on a bus! Her brain couldn't get a proper fix on the fact they were actually kissing; and it had happened on a London bus of all places.

Although her brain was doing its damnedest to enjoy every single millisecond of tasting and trailing over his tempting lips. There was just something about that bottom lip in particular that had long yelled at her to come and try it out. The reality was joyful, worth every moment of waiting and hesitating; because it paid back in bucket loads.

She had to eventually stop and suck in deep breaths to keep from going completely giddy.

There was a tsk from the side of them, and a nearby teenager remarked their friend next to them, "Old people! They should know better."

Well, she had to concede that she was old in a teenager's eyes. Admittedly to rile the teenager further, she patted the Doctor's cheek and told him, "You have earned yourself a special treat when we get you home."

Oh, she could tell by his leering expression that he would not let her forget those words, so she used a fortunate act of distraction. "Here's our stop. Come on, Time boy." With an efficient grab of his hand, she led him off the bus as though he were an eager puppy. Without the lead, of course.

"What about my treat?" he wondered as soon as they had entered the house.

She knew it! Despite all the hand holding and giggling conversation as they had walked the last steps towards home she knew he would remember and bring it up. Having slung off her coat, she fought for a possible answer. "Erm... It's in here," she declared, opening the lounge door to let him through. 'Please let me have a decent idea what it can be!' she silently begged.

"Oh!" He gasped, and stood stock still in the doorway.

"Well, let the rest of us in," she griped, and tried to push by him. Except he wasn't moving; not a muscle, so she had to squeeze halfway in. "Are you okay?" she softly asked, and ran a hand over his brow.

His hand whipped up to cover it. "Donna," he panted in low, almost amorous tones to her ear.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out," she joked to cover the silence. Heck, what was he about to do? There was an electrical buzz to his skin, and a form of nervous energy was coming off him in waves. "Should I do anything in particular, Doctor?" she queried as his eyes seemed to glaze over for a second.

"Yes, I need... I want...," he stammered as though he was fighting something. He then turned his full attention onto her, and the look in his eyes could have melted the buttons on her blouse with its sultriness.

Donna opened her mouth to question him again about his condition, but he short-circuited that by entering the room, thrusting his hand into his jacket and bringing out his sonic screwdriver. Following him in, she silently closed the door behind them, wary of causing any more sound in the silent house; and then wondered why he was dancing around like a demented fairy.

"Why are you flashing about your sonic screwdriver like that, Spaceman?" she asked as he waved the blue light of his beloved sonic about the room.

"I'm setting up a filter field," he explained as he finished and returned the sonic to the pocket of his discarded jacket.

She frowned at him. "Ain't that some kind of Jewish food? Why would you want to attract that?!"

He burst into laughter. "That's gefilte fish!" he guffawed. "Oh Donna Noble, you don't know how much you entertain me," he added as he sauntered up to her side, and got even closer.

She shrugged self-consciously. "That sounds like me. Always here to amuse people." Then to her complete astonishment, he seemed to take in a really deep breath, as though he were deliberately smelling her, and wavered on the spot. "Are you okay? Only you look a bit…well, 'high' is the only way I can describe it."

He giggled, in a high-pitched squeal of delight. "Oh, I am," he agreed. "I'm high on you, Donna; and it's getting worse."

"Is that bad?" she considered. "Should I go and…?"

"No no no no!" he interrupted her question, and firmly wrapped his arms around her waist. "You should not leave me for one second. To do so would be very bad. Very bad indeed."

"How would it be bad? Are you likely to play with knives? Is something liable to blow up?"

He cuddled her closer still, planting his face in her hair before placing tiny kisses on her ear. "Something would blow, I assure you," he murmured.

It was on her mind to comment that he was acting as though he was drunk – a fact that she knew couldn't be true because she had been with him the whole evening – when she became acutely aware that his hands had slipped south and landed on her behind. Not only that, but those errant hands weren't keeping still, but were kneading her bottom with precise strokes onto his lower torso. And let's just say that wasn't the only reaction.

Desire and panic fought to be uppermost in her mind. How real was this? Had she fallen asleep and was now having a wish fulfilment dream? Had the Doctor morphed into a sex fiend? Was this his idea of a joke; albeit an in bad taste one? Or was this the logical progression of the incident on the bus in his mind?

"Just go with the flow," he softly begged; right before he kissed her again.

Except this wasn't similar to the previous kisses in any shape or form. This one was deeply passionate; immensely arousing, full of promises of a carnal nature. 'It must be a telepathy thing,' Donna reasoned, right before cognitive thought took a backseat and lust-filled desire took over the reins.

That's it, the Doctor encouraged her. Bend a little more.

She was about to snort her disbelief that she could bend in any direction when she found herself gradually falling backwards towards the floor.

Clothing. Lose the clothing, he directed her; and she blindly obeyed.

Her hands peeled off his jacket, then assaulted his shirt buttons before tackling his tie. 'Get to his flesh, just get to his chest,' she kept thinking. Luckily he wasn't wearing a t-shirt underneath it all, so her hands smoothed down his back to circle his waist and begin to unbuckle his belt. With surprisingly nimble fingers, she had the catch and zip undone on his trousers in next to no time, and she edged his waistband down over his lean hips and further down his thighs.

Good girl, he breathed into her neck. His own hands had not been idle. Whilst she had been stripping him, he had undone her blouse, unclipped her bra, and dealt with her jeans, which were fast travelling down her legs.

Both of them pulled momentarily apart to throw off all their clothing except their briefs. They returned to gaze deeply into each other's eyes, no words having been spoken out loud for some time; but their desire acted like a magnet, drawing their mouths and bodies together to move in synch. An aroused male body was familiar territory to Donna; she had dealt with them several times, and not always by choice. But she was eager to explore the Doctor's body, and would have done so willingly even without the mental nudges from him.

Knowing he trusted her implicitly, she released his lips to wander wherever they liked as she took hold of the elastic at his waist and tugged downwards. Yes! Oh yes! In fact she didn't need his cry in her head to know he wanted her to do this, but it amused her nevertheless to hear him groan it out.

Curiosity made her caress him gently with her wow! The response was amazing! He quivered under her touch; and she felt her own body respond as she wondered what it would be like to feel that internally.

My turn! He suddenly was very insistent in her mind, and she found herself being flipped. What else do you do? he gleefully pondered as his lips kissed down towards where he had his hand. Oh! That! he noted.

She quickly nodded her agreement before she lost her confidence to let him wander. Fortunately she did not regret it, because he treated her with a great deal of care.

Pretty, he commented; and she couldn't resist lightly swatting his arm. No, you're more than pretty. You are beautiful, he firmly claimed; filling her mind with wondrous thoughts that forced her to believe him.

The Doctor lifted his head away from her, smacking his tongue up against the roof of his mouth as he did so. I'd say we are ready, he said; his dark lust filled eyes piercingly turned on to her in question.

In answer, she opened her arms to pull him back so that she could kiss him. That talented tongue of his was playing its own oral version of footsie, as she tasted him back with equal vigour. I want you, Donna, he near whispered, and she quickly assured him that she wanted him too.

Oh Donna!He repeatedly crooned into her mind the same two words.

'Doctor! Oh yes! Yes!' she replied; urging him on.

How they stayed relatively quiet she didn't know; but mentally they were shouting, if not screaming, the house down. Soon their words turned into mere sounds of encouragement, enjoyment and exultation as their connection meant they could share and feed their joint experience.

At that point she didn't know if they had yelled out their completion or whether it had stayed internal the whole time; and she didn't care either way. All she knew was that the whole thing had been bloody fantastic and the best sex she had ever had. She sort of suspected it was the same for him, judging by the way he was breathing erratically. And the sated look on his face; that was a dead giveaway.

She fondly caressed his face as he threw himself to the side of her, and cuddled in. He instantly kissed her palm, causing her to giggle with delight. "I bloody love you!" she softly exclaimed.

"I…," he started and stopped himself from saying. Heck, he knew she could tell what he meant, because it didn't need to be said between them. He loved her and she loved him; and they'd just found another way to say it. Donna understood that. A rather delicious way that demanded repeating. Hopefully very soon.

A/N3: this was edited for sexual content. The full version can be found on LiveJournal.