[on the triumph of homoerotic subtext over evil] oh god i love you
[ “Right,” she said, “thanks for the cup of tea.” He looked like he might have graced the cover of a romantic novel, not that Donna was the type to notice such things. “I'll be off then,” she said, before she could betray herself by swooning.] *cackles* of course she liked Eight best.
[ She didn't want to have to punch him or anything, because he seemed oddly vulnerable under the scowl and the leather.] awww. Of course she'd see it. And of course HE she could actually persuade.
They're very lovely eyelashes, as lovely as this story.