A/N: I will probably be changing the rating after this part, just to be on the safe side... unless you'd prefer that I kept all references to smut out?

Part Ten


Who thought she would find herself racing through the school using her ninja moves? Thank goodness she had brought a handbag mirror with her, as the dressing table hand mirror was extremely unwieldy to try and carry about in your pocket. She probably looked completely stupid creeping along a corridor and then hugging the corner as she swiped the mirror over the edge to find out if anyone was lurking.

In this case her main worrying was finding Dr Octopus lurking in the shadows or anywhere else; but fortunately the coast was completely clear. Perhaps he was monopolising Joan at that very moment with his tale of woe? All she knew was that he was nursing his potentially broken nose and hiding from John, with very good reason.

Her hero!

'Right; get that thought out of your head, missy,' her sensible side told her as happy thoughts of snuggling with John filtered through.

Running as fast as her legs could carry her, she sped towards the TARDIS and home. Double checking both ways to make sure no one was in the vicinity or could see her progress through the small wood on the edges of the school estate, she crawled into the old shed used by the gamekeeper and gasped in awe as she caught sight of the TARDIS for the first time in ages!

My, she had missed her. "Hello, old girl," she reverently greeted her with a fond pat on the wooden panelling. "Have you been okay without us? I really hope so." She then added as an afterthought, "We should have got you a pet to play with while we were away. I'm so sorry you've been neglected. Anyway, I hope you have some vital information for me."

With that declaration, she brought out her key that hung on a chain around her neck and open the TARDIS door. The lights brightened as she entered, and warm air greeted her as Donna bound up the ramp towards the monitor. Donna immediately giggled with delight. "Ooh, I love you! I can hardly wait for when we can come back and spend proper time with you; won't be too long now." Her eyes sought out the monitor. "I just need some information. Can you show me the message the Doctor made while I was faffing about getting into this getup?"

The monitor sprung into life with an image of the Doctor in mid-flow.

"Yes, that's the blighter," Donna remarked, and reached out to rest her fingertip lovingly on him, smiling fondly. "What have you got to tell me that's helpful about our setup?"

She then pressed the 'play' button on the interactive screen and listened to him.

"I need you to look after me, Donna," he said sincerely.

"Well, yeah! Tell me something I don't know," she commented.

"Make sure I don't abandon you," he fretted.

"I don't think I can class what you've done as abandoning me in the slightest," she happily answered him.

"Make sure I don't eat pears. I hate pears!" he ordered with contempt. "I shall know if I've eaten pears."

"That rules out pear-flavoured body oil then," she joked, and then blushed with embarrassment. "Sorry," she murmured to the TARDIS.

There was a load of blah yadda, yadda blah. How many points?! Did he really have the time to think all this up on the spot? And then there was the last point of all.

"And whatever I do, make sure I don't hurt you," he sadly requested.

"Oh John!" She threw her hands over her mouth to stop a sob escaping. "I'm in danger of having my heart broken by you, but I know you'd never hurt me intentionally."

Then the film stopped.

"That was it? You actually stopped right there, you stupid git?! This doesn't help me in the slightest," she complained loudly; and then watched the whole thing again, just to make sure.

With a dissatisfied groan, she sat back and considered her options. "That was no help at all; I'm stumped. I've promised to spend tonight in your bed and sex is inevitable at the rate we're going. You are going to absolutely hate me when you return to normal, and I really don't want that. So what am I supposed to do now?"

A flash of blue light to her side caught her attention, so Donna turned her head to see where it was coming from. "You want me to go to the kitchen?" she asked the TARDIS. "Why? Okay, I'll go and look."

Getting up, the screen switched off as she made her way into the kitchen and found, to her delight, a refreshing mug of tea sitting on the table. "You beauty! Thank you," she cried out as she picked the mug up. And then laughed ruefully when she saw what was sitting on the kitchen table behind the mug.

Lying on the table top was a pill; presumable a contraceptive tablet, judging by the timing. "Alright, I get the picture. Either I'm ill, I didn't know it and this is a super duper antibiotic; or this is a mega powerful contraceptive and you actually condone what is going to happen. Then again, you might be maintaining damage control; that's a possibility. Here goes whichever it is." Donna picked up the pill, placed it trustingly on her tongue, and used a gulp of tea to swallow it. "If that was a cyanide capsule of some sort, you get the job of cleaning up my body," she joked, and gained a cold blast of air for her trouble. "Yeah, yeah. Love you too!"

She giggled for a second, and then sobered to caress the wall beside her before heading for the main doors. "If this goes all Pete Tong, and I'm turfed out on my earhole when he realises he's made a humongous mistake by sleeping with me, I want you to know that I will always be grateful you rescued me from my marriage to Lance; the git! And my only regret will be causing you and the Doctor grief. I love him in so many ways; it's not even funny anymore." She stood looking at the console room from the open TARDIS door, and added, "Goodbye sweetheart. I'll do my best to make sure he's safe and happy so that he can return to you; promise."

With one last parting kiss blown to the TARDIS, Donna walked away; wiping away a sudden tear as she did so. It seemed cruel to leave the TARDIS on her own in the musty gloom, but what else could she do?

It was dinner time when Donna got back to the school, bobbing as she went; so she made her way straight into the refectory to eat. John keenly greeted her as she sat down next to him. Mrs Hopkins smiled knowingly at her from across the table, as did her husband. Did everyone think he was on a promise?

Moving on…

John took hold of her hand and used it to wrap her arm around his as they left the refectory and headed towards their rooms to spend the rest of the evening alone together. "What would you like us to do first?" he asked her on entering their home and shutting the door.

'The bed. The bed!' her mind yelled at her. "I think we should do what you wanted to do earlier," she proposed.

The breath stuttered in his throat. "You do not mind if we do?" he anxiously wondered.

"Of course not," she replied, and smiled broadly at him. "Now where would you like me to pose for your drawing? And what sort of effect where you going for?"

"Drawing?" he echoed in disappointment for a second, and then found some very redeeming qualities about it. "I want to capture the real you. The you I am allowed to see, or will be allowed to see, if you are willing."

"Just ask and you shall receive," she replied enigmatically. "Well? What's the verdict? Where should I sit, and did you want me to change my clothes?"

"Could I erm…" He steered her towards the bedroom, and she immediately went onto red alert! "I want you as natural as possible, reclined on the bed."

"Are you saying you want me naked?!" she blurted out; and immediately regretted it. Of course he wanted her naked; that had been clear from their very first night together. How far was she actually prepared to go with this, so soon?

John blushed to the tips of his ears and his eyes went wide. "I…" He then coughed in embarrassment. "I would love to erm… whatever you will…," he stammered, hastily adjusting his collar.

She took pity on him and calmed him by running her hands over his chest. "We'll compromise, shall we? I will change into my nightgown, and then you can arrange me into whatever pose you want."

"The hair!" he managed to ground out as she walked away. "I want you to let down your hair."

She smiled sweetly. "Of course." Next time she planned to let him undress her.

He had removed his cap, gown and, surprisingly, his jacket when she reappeared; and he stood nervously with his sketchpad and pencil in his hand by the dressing table. His expression brightened when he saw her.

"I left my hair for you to do, since you liked all the pin pulling out this morning," she explained.

There was a grateful answer of, "Thank you." He quickly put his sketching tools down and reached out to her head.

Just as he had earlier, John took his time to remove each hairpin carefully; but this time she did not assist him. Instead she watched his face full of concentration as he did so; his firm-set mouth and his fluttering long eyelashes that looked so dark against his pale skin. What fascinated her the most, now that she was able to examine him up-close, was the faint smattering of freckles across his cheeks. His eyes flicked down to hers for a second, and a shy smile broke out on his face. He had such a wonderful smile; and she readily answered it.

In no time at all he was fanning her hair out on her shoulders to his own personal preference. If he kissed her she was doomed, so she instantly asked, "Shall I get on the beds yet?"

"Beds? Oh yes, the beds." He whimsically smiled. "If you would…?" He added in a vague wave towards the bed.

"Just tell me if I'm getting this wrong," she suggested as she picked up a pillow, plumped it and rested it near the middle of the two joined single beds. She then laid crossways, folded her hands behind her head, and gently crossed her legs. "How much skin did you want me to show?" she asked, pointing at them. Taking hold of the hem, she started to draw it up her leg. "This much…this much… or this much?"

He waited until it was high up her thigh before nodding his agreement.

"And what about this?" she then asked, placing her finger on the placket of her nightdress. "Do you want the buttons as they are, undone a little, or completely undone?" The fact that he nodded at every question was extremely unhelpful. "Well?"

"All of it undone," he suddenly managed to spit out.

The poor idiot! At least she wasn't revealing anything unwanted; she'd shown off more on the beach, for goodness sake. Still, it wouldn't hurt to tease him for a bit and wring out every ounce of enjoyment, so she slowly undid each button and revealed more of her chest. She gained an extremely satisfying physical reaction from him that she was able to lay back and relish as he hastily picked up his sketching materials and tried to pretend it hadn't happened.

The clock in the living room ticked on, her lack of sleep from having visited the TARDIS took its toll on her, and she soon found she was drifting off to sleep as he worked on, mentally caressing her exposed limbs with the tip of his pencil.

He wanted to try a slightly different position, but he daren't waken her as she slumbered on. So he risked adjusting the hem of her nightdress, and moved her arm so that it wouldn't go dead in her sleep. Two hours later he had some delightful sketches that showed the length of her legs, her curves that swept from her hips and the swell of her bosom perfectly. The next step would be to do a watercolour or use some pastels.

There was a murmur from the bed, so he leaned in and tenderly moved a wisp of hair from her face. "Are you awake yet, Donna?" he crooned.

"No," she mumbled. "Come back to bed, I want five more minutes."

Donna was shocked awake when she felt his warm body snuggle up behind hers, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. He had changed into his pyjamas, and this was a dangerous situation! It grew even more dangerous when he started to press tender kisses onto her skin, starting from her exposed shoulder and moving towards her throat. Her panic intensified when one of his hands landed on her thigh and began to rub caressing circles as it followed its own path upwards.

He mustn't do this! "Why are you here?"

He quickly answered, "You told me to come to bed."

"And what about the shoulder and hand thing?" she asked.

"I've wanted to do this all day, but especially in the last hour or so," he freely admitted without stopping his quest. "Your skin is so soft."

"John, you need to stop doing that right now," she groaned out.

His hand stilled on her upper thigh. "Why?"