Just a Bite by Lilac Summers



Summary: The Doctor has a strange encounter in the Planet of Eternal Night. Now Donna has to deal with a peckish Time Lord.
Rating: Teen
Categories: Tenth Doctor
Characters: Donna Noble, The Doctor (10th)
Genres: Het, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2012.02.12
Updated: 2014.08.08


Index

Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter 2: Chapter 2 (& original epilogue)
Chapter 3: Little nibbles (Complications)


Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Author's Notes: A stab at a bit of supernatural humor/romance bordering on crack. Some non-explicit lovin' thrown in.


"It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, is what it is."

"Yes, well..." muttered the Doctor, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"I mean, they aren't even real! You said so!"

"I've been known to be wrong, once or twice. Apparently, I was wrong this time."

"'Oh, don't be daft, Donna! No such thing as a vampire...just mutations or plasma-consuming races like the plasmavores, but none of that Bram Stoker balderdash.' That's what you said!"

"Blimey, and word for word. Didn't think you actually ever paid attention."

"And now, as if I needed any further proof that you're talking out your arse half the time," seethed Donna, advancing towards him.

"Oi! Langua-thhhh" and that was the sound of the Doctor's exclamation slurring to a halt as Donna pinched his upper lip and lifted it to reveal a gleaming fang.

"...you swan back in here to tell me you've been turned into a vampire!"

"M'thorry."

"Can't leave you alone for five minutes. Can't take one second to come back by myself to the TARDIS to use the loo because Planet Of Eternal Night had a confusing lack of toilets-"

"That really thould have behn our firtht clue..."

"-not that you ever bother to do any research like, ever, before we land somewhere. Bet it all makes sense, now! And there you go, probably walked up to the first blood-thirsty looking native the minute I left, prancing around with that long skinny neck of yours-"

"Can't help it I have a gratheful neck!"

"-and I bet when the vampire came after you, instead of running like any sane person would you probably did the whole 'ooh, aren't you lovely!' bit-"

"I'm friendly!"

"-which is flat-out flirting in 99% of the universe and you should know that by now! So naturally said vampire thought it was okay to chomp on you, though why anyone would want to take a bite out of you, I'll never understand, with it -"

"Thith regeneration ith really rather attractive!"

"-probably being difficult as hell trying to wring any blood out of a skinny twig like you -"

"I'm thlim and foxy, many have thaid!"

"- the poor vampire was probably hungrier after he fed on you than before he even started. I don't understand how you can have the survival instincts of a lemming-"

"Lemmingth are under-appreciated creaturth!"

"-and so here I am, with a Doctor turned vampire!"

After a beat, the Doctor realized she had finished her rant. "You done? Leggo of my lip now?"

Donna released him and stepped back to huffily cross her arms over her chest. "You better not be one of those foofy glittery ones, or I'll stake you myself."

"Glittery vampires? That's just bollocks, no such thing as-"

"That's what you said about 'regular' vampires! I'm warning you now, Doctor, that I'm not stepping foot off this TARDIS if you're going to embarrass me all over the universe by glittering like a bespangled Vegas showgirl every time you're hit by the sun."

"Sounds like fun, but no. I'm not a 'foofy glittery' kind. Just your basic blood-drinking, sun-burning, don't die sort. Inconvenient, really. Welllll, the not being able to go out in the sun, at least. Everything else isn't too different than being a Time Lord. 'Cept for the blood part. Wellll, we do have a long history of being particularly fond of blood pudding. 'Course, humans eat all sorts of animal parts so why blood drinking would be any worse I don't under-"

"Shut it! This means I'm never going to get taken to a sunny beach now, doesn't it? This was all part of some evil master plan to deny me my beach vacation."

"Nah. Pretty sure I've got super-duper waterproof 100% full spectrum UV blocker spray around here somewhere. Assuming the ultra violet rays of this solar system are even the same as other solar systems, in which case I won't even have to worry about it. Even then, it is the Planet of Eternal Night; maybe they don't even have UV rays. Gonna have to look into that."

Donna shifted suspiciously. "And no sudden urge to turn evil? No lost soul? No inexplicable need to try to take over the world and make humans your personal blood slaves?"

The Doctor scratched his chin, thoughtful expression on his face as he did a quick internal scan of his 'urges', as Donna called them. "No more than usual, I think."

Donna seemed slightly mollified. "So just your regular emo self, then. Okay. As long as I don't have to turn Buffy on you, I suppose I can live with it."

"So...we good here?"

"Guess so."

The Doctor beamed a wide, fangy smile at her. "Look at you, Donna, citizen of Earth, taking your traveling companion turning into a vampire all in a stride! You've come such a long way from your narrow little human view."

She turned on her heel and headed towards the main hall. "Meh. After surviving a meta-crisis, little can shock me now. And there could be worse things, I suppose."

The Doctor looked pained at the reminder. It had taken him several months of combing the universe for a way to remove the Time Lord energy from Donna, unlock her own memories, and not have her burn, to boot. He'd returned to Chiswick, gotten Donna all sorted and back to their merry travels on the TARDIS and how had she welcomed him? With a spectacularly strong slap that had had his ears ringing for days.

'Course, turned out Donna had known all along how to save herself and if he'd waited ten seconds before wiping her mind, she would have told him and saved them both the trouble of what she called "another Time Lord broodathon."

Donna broke him out of his reverie as she sauntered away. "I'm going for a cuppa. You want?"

"Gods yes, I'm incredibly thirsty." He pattered after her docilely, pondering her words until curiosity got the best of him. "Worse things like what, by the way?"

Donna shrugged a shoulder. "Dunno. Zombies, maybe. That'd be gross, you all zombiefied. Really, as long as you're not leaving decomposing bits of yourself around the TARDIS, I'm fine."

The Doctor pulled a disgusted face at the visual. "Yeah, I can see where that'd be unpleasant. The old girl isn't much fond of goo."

"Newsflash, Martianvamp: no girl is."

"Oooh, is that my new nickname? Bit of a mouthful, you ask me."

"I'm still working on it!" cried Donna defensively.

They reached the kitchen, and the Doctor settled on one of the mismatched chairs as she went about making a fresh pot.

"Don't get used to this," warned Donna with a beady eye as the Doctor enjoyed watching her putter around the kitchen. "You're still the designated tea-maker in this living arrangement - I just thought you deserve a break due to the circumstances."

"'Preciate it," replied the Doctor, distracted as he tested the sharpness of one of his new fangs. "Donna, how scary do I look?" He made a sort of growly face at her, baring fangs.

She tilted her head, observing the somewhat sharper canines. "Well, I'd rank you somewhere between a teething puppy and mildly miffed ferret."

"Really?" replied the Doctor, clearly crestfallen. "But they feel sharper!"

"Well, they are, but just not that noticeable. Maybe they get longer or sharper when you bite something?"

"Yeah, maybe," he mumbled, unconvinced as he shredded a napkin unhappily.

The shredded napkin was abandoned when Donna set a steaming cup in front of him. He waited politely until she seated herself across from him, then took a healthy mouthful.

And spewed it across the table.

Donna blinked at him in shock, tea dripping off her face. "What the hell?!"

"Tastes vile! By Rassilon's socks, what did you put in this?" The Doctor peered into the cup with disgust, though the brew smelled and looked fine.

"Tea, Spacepire! Just regular old tea from the regular old tin!" She wiped her face with a napkin, then took her own sip. "And it tastes same as always."

"Spacepire?"

"I'M STILL WORKING ON IT!"

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor over that one, the Doctor took another experimental whiff of tea, then slowly raised the cup to his mouth. Donna sent him a death glare in warning, raising a sopping napkin. Sheepish, he lowered the cup and dipped a finger in the liquid instead, then brought the digit to his mouth.

"Ugh!" his face scrunched up as if he'd taken a bite off a lemon, and then he was stealing Donna's napkin to try to rub his tongue clean. "What's wrong with this?!"

Donna rolled her eyes, then leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and smug superiority on her face. "You know you're an idiot, right?"

"So you tell me, on a regular basis - which is mean, frankly, since all I ever do is tell you you're brilliant - but, why, specifically, am I an idiot this time?"

"Because, you git, you're a vampire," Donna stressed the word "vampire" so that it sounded synonymous with "moron." "And apparently you're the unfortunate type that can't stomach any regular food or drink now."

The Doctor looked positively aghast. Of course he'd known this, in a kind of technical, offhand way, but to actually put it in practice? "But it's tea! Tea is practically the life blood of Time Lords, Donna! What am I supposed to do without my tea?"

"Well, I guess your life's blood is going to have to be, you know, blood. Because of you being a, have I mentioned, vampire?"

"Good point. And I'm so awfully, awfully thirsty," the Doctor said meaningfully.

The kitchen descended into silence, as Donna took her time in coming to the correct conclusion.

"Oi! You better not be eying my neck, you underfed blood-sucker!"

The Doctor, who was, after all, eying Donna's pale, freckled neck hungrily, didn't even make the effort to look up. "You said so yourself, Donna. Vamp, life's-blood, underfed..."

"Yeah, but not MY blood! We'll stop over at a nice hospital and nick you some blood packets, why don't we."

"The thing is, Donna-"

"Oh god, I hate it when you start sentences with 'the thing is, Donna.' Because it's never a good thing...it's always a bad thing."

"Be that as it may, the thing is, Donna, that it's not the blood itself that matters. It's the life-force within the blood - like a psychic feeding, more than one having to do with nutrients, if that helps - and so it can only be taken from another live, sentient being."

"How do you know this; as of thirty minutes ago you didn't even think they existed!" cried Donna, throwing up her hands in frustration.

"Well, Henry-"

"Who the hell is Henry?!" More arm waving ensued.

"Oh, the nice chap who bit me! Felt awfully sorry; didn't know I wasn't local. Apologized profusely, even, for getting a bit carried away. Can't really blame him, you know, with me being the last of the Time Lords. I'm an extremely rare vintage! Probably taste delicious."

"And modest, too, which is the best part."

"Yes, and that," the Doctor continued on blithely, ignoring sarcasm he could all but swim in. "So we sat down for a chat and he explained the way things worked. About the blood, and life force, and how to not die - fire, decapitation, stake through the heart - you know, the usual - hey! Hey, I have two hearts Donna! What are the odds someone will try to stake me through both hearts? About .00000387, is what they are. I'm practically invincible now! Which is good, because I rather like this me. Good hair, and teeth, and oodles of charm. No, can't say I blame Henry for taking a bite..."

"Your odds of getting staked through both hearts just went up to 70%, and they'll rise to 100 in a minute if you don't zip it."

He zipped it.

"Honestly, I was gone for 5 minutes. Okay, ten, tops, since I decided to change my shoes while I was in here. I don't understand how you managed to get attacked, turned, and have a lovely heart-to-heart with 'Henry' in that time. But whatever," murmured Donna, rising from her seat to begin a nervous pacing back and forth.

"So you need blood from a sentient being. That can't be super difficult to find, lookit all those crazy kids on the internet who love vampires. We just find one of those and make their little emo dreams come true."

The Doctor's face set into a stubborn pout. "I don't wanna."

"What do you mean 'you don't wanna'? Thought you were thirsty."

"Yeah," mumbled the Doctor, avoiding her gaze by alternately dipping his fingers into his tea. "But I don't wanna bite them."

"Then what do you want?" Donna's tone was laced with exasperation. "Blonde shop girls? We can troll down Oxford Street if you really fancy some peroxide-laced-"

"I want to bite you."

Donna stumbled to an ungraceful halt and whirled to stare at him, stupefied. "What?"

"Ummm...I want to bite you?"

Donna's face contorted into several strange expressions before she settled on indignation. "Well you can't bite me!"

"Why not? Aren't you my best mate?"

"But you," she stammered, pointing a trembling finger at him, "...me..." the finger veered to point at her (delightfully heaving, the Doctor noticed) chest. "Well," spluttered Donna, "'cos no!"

"But I don't want to bite a stranger, Donna! It's just...well, it's plain rude, no way around that, and...and...probably not terribly hygienic."

"Then let's go to Cardiff. I'm sure Jack won't mind a nibble."

The Doctor's face scrunched in disgust, imagining how unnatural the wrongness in Jack's blood would taste. "I'll pass."

"Bite Martha then!"

"Awww, c'mon Donna! It's - it's just not what I'm craving. It's like here I am wanting steak and you're offering me tofu."

Donna's mouth opened and closed several times, caught between feeling foolishly flattered and grievously insulted, since he was pretty much comparing her to a cow. But beyond that...

"...Did you just call Martha tofu?"

"Please don't tell her I said that."

"And what's wrong with tofu, anyway?"

"Nothing's wrong with tofu! Tofu is versatile and healthy. But not everyone wants to eat tofu, you understand."

"I really, really don't. Leave it to you to become a picky eater once your turn vamp. Used to stick everything else in your mouth."

"Well, excuse me if I thought my best mate would understand that I don't want to go around sucking just anyone," he claimed with injured dignity.

Donna spluttered, and he reviewed what he'd said, then flushed red at the implication. "Not like- that's not what - you know what I mean! This isn't easy for me, you know! No more tea, no more bananas, and even my companion can't stand to help out this once because I'm this ...this thing now."

The Doctor trailed off, dejected. A few beats of silence passed as the Doctor flicked tea around the table despondently, and Donna tried and failed not to feel sorry for him.

Donna sighed gustily. "Fine," she gave in with ill humor.

The Doctor's sad face cleared instantly, wide grin spreading across his face, and Donna suspected she'd just been played. He jumped to his feet and bounded over to her.

Donna backed up, hands held up to ward him off. "Wait! Wait! Got a few questions, first!"

The Doctor looked a bit nervous for a second, but smiled engagingly at her. "Sure! Perfectly reasonable. Shoot."

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Well, didn't hurt me any. Barely even felt what Henry was doing. But, for honesty's sake, I should point out I am a Time Lord, and superior in every way, so I can't promise you might not feel a ...pinch...a little one," he conceded.

Donna heroically ignored the need to throw something at him. "Okay. And you aren't going to take too much? I'm not going to be bleeding all over the place, am I? 'Cos I donated blood once, you understand, and I was all woozy and weak for hours, no matter how much juice and cookies they offered me."

"Just a few quick sips, I promise. Remember, it's the life force in the blood, not the actual blood itself."

Donna examined the Doctor's wide, guileless eyes once more - no doubt looking for any hidden evil 'I really mean to kill you' thoughts - and seemed satisfied at the lack of homicidal intent. "Okay then," she said cautiously.

The Doctor bounded over again.

Hands went up again, fingers wide. "Wait!"

"Now what?"

Donna turned quickly, rooted through a kitchen drawer, then turned triumphantly with a wooden mixing spoon clenched in her hand. "Okay, now I'm ready!"

The Doctor eyed the spoon curiously. "And what's that for?"

"I thought I'd bake a cake. What do you think it's for, you muppet? You get carried away, I can take out one of your hearts with this," she said, waving the spoon threateningly.

"At the very least you'll be able to drive me back with the threat of splinters, I'm sure."

Donna grumbled at him, but stayed still as he advanced on her for the last time.

And then he was hovering over her, moving the heavy mass of red hair aside to bare the side of her neck. His other hand went to her hip, steadying her as he leaned in. He stood there, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of her, watching her pulse flutter under her skin. His own breath washed over her as he exhaled, leaning closer. He paused again, eyes closing as he reveled in the beat of her heart, audible to his new senses.

"Well get on with it, then!" thundered Donna.

He reared back, moment broken. "It's my first time, here, Donna! Kind of have to feel my way around how to go about being a vampire! A little understanding would go a long way," he whined.

She wriggled under his hold. "Meanwhile, the waiting is giving me the willies! I'm nervous enough without you drawing out the part where you bite into my neck and take my life force, thank you!"

"All right, I think we're both a little on edge here. Why don't we go somewhere more relaxing," he offered, stepping back and holding out his hand.

Donna took a deep, calming breath and latched on to his hand. "Yeah. Maybe that will help." But she didn't let go of the spoon.

He led them out of the kitchen, down the hall and into his bedroom, across from her own. She looked around curiously, noting the unmade bed and the gadgetry that littered the floor.

"Why in here?" she asked. How was being in his bedroom supposed to make things less awkward?

He shrugged. "In case you feel woozy," he offered, pointing vaguely toward the bed and avoiding her eyes.

She narrowed her own gaze and gripped the spoon more firmly. "You promised just a little blood!"

"I'm just being careful!" defended the Doctor, then escaped further questioning by slinking into the adjoining bathroom. He returned with a neatly-folded towel and a single plaster printed with blue and white Adipose babies.

Donna opened her mouth to question this further, but he beat her to it. "Simply making sure I don't stain your shirt if I dribble."

Donna shut her mouth. He was a messy eater the best of times, she conceded.

He set the towel and plaster on the edge of the bed by where she stood. They were back to him looking bashful and she staring mistrustfully, until Donna got tired of worrying and double-guessing. He'd said it wouldn't hurt and that he wouldn't take too much, and he'd never harm her wittingly so they might as well get to it.

She moved her hair aside and pulled the edge of her blouse down to her shoulder. "Let's get this over with," she muttered.

The Doctor gulped, but shuffled closer and went back to hovering and breathing all over her. "If you go overboard and drain me, I will haunt you mercilessly," she hissed at him, unable to help herself even after her little internal 'you trust him' pep-talk.

"Understood," replied the Doctor, lips against her neck, and she shivered involuntarily. His arms slid around her, one hand around her waist, the other pushing her in closer with gentle pressure on the middle of her back. Then there was a moment of wetness as he licked her, the cheeky bugger, as if she were his own personal chew toy-

And he bit her.

And it hurt, the little lying tart! But okay, more of a pinch, like he said, than an actual bite as the fangs slid in. All in all not as horrible as she'd feared and...

Oh. Oh my god what was that?

It felt like his mouth was no longer on her neck, but on more private places, much further down her body. And yet she knew it wasn't since she could still feel the length of his skinny body pressed against her, thigh to neck, and his hands digging into her waist and back, so obvioulsy he hadn't slithered down to use his tongue on her the way her body kept insisting he was...Laving and suckling at her breasts, or down between her thighs, or all places at once.

Her knees buckled, boneless, pleasure simmering through her, neck to groin. He took the weight of her, bearing her down on the bed, one hand moving to tangle in her hair and support her head, his mouth still attached to her neck where he made greedy, moist noises as he swallowed. His body sank onto her, heavier than she thought he'd be, as still he drank and drank...

How much had he taken? Was it too much? Where was her spoon?

Even as the worry flittered on the edges of her thoughts, she was bucking under him, helplessly pressing her body against his as waves of white-hot bliss built in her. They were moving against each other sinuously, so maybe he felt it too. She didn't know, but she wrapped her legs around his thighs anyway to afford her more friction where she wanted it. Another bolt of ecstasy, spearing through her, and she was unraveling and crying out, hands clenching on the back of his jacket. He was shouting out, too, tearing his mouth away from her neck finally, and pressing his forehead against her shoulder, and why hadn't he told her it would feel like that?

Because if it did, every time, she was going to make sure he was the best-fed vamp in the entire universe. Three square meals a day, with snacks in between even!

After a long moment of drifting in the afterglow, she forced her eyes open. Everything was blurry and soft, but a few determined blinks had her sight clearing and she was digging her fingers into the Doctor's thick hair so she could drag him away from her shoulder. At her insistent tugging he lifted his face and met her eyes; he looked, she marked, sated and guilty and nervous and yet not a teeny bit sorry.

"What the hell was that?" she gasped, lungs still laboring. "How much did you take?"

"Donna..."

"That felt like more than a little and," she demanded again, "you didn't say anything about it feeling like-"

"Donna..."

"You said it 'didn't hurt' but you should have told me it felt like - AAARRRGH!"

She arched against him suddenly, back taut as a bow as what felt like lightning seared through her. She screamed again, half fright, half pain, as she felt tendrils of electricity swim through her, each nerve ending firing at the same time. She howled, twisting under the Doctor's weight.

Her eyes, wide and panicked, sought out the Doctor. He was levered over her, holding her down. His eyes were on her, agonized, yet grimly determined.

"Donna - I'm sorry," he whispered.

No, thought Donna. No, you're really not.


to be continued

Back to index


Chapter 2: Chapter 2 (& original epilogue)

Donna sat at the head of his bed, a happy-frolicking-chubby-Adipose-babies-printed plaster firmly on her neck.

She looked very much not amused. But every time he opened his mouth to apologize again, she sent him such a piercing glare that he immediately zipped it.

After more agonizing seconds of heavy silence, she finally spoke. "So let me get this straight," she began, too quietly to bode well."You," she stressed, "turned me into a vampire. Is that about right?"

He nodded once.

"This," she said, pointing to one of her new, dainty fangs, "is your fault."

Another nod, and the charged silence fell again.

"All right," she said calmly. "Hand me that spoon."

Without thinking, the Doctor fished the wooden spoon off the floor and politely made to pass it on, before niggling suspicion stayed his hand. "Err, why?"

"Because," she stated, "I'm going to stake you with it."

And Donna pounced.


Turning vampire hadn't been as easy an affair for Donna as it had apparently been for the Doctor. He had been able to automatically control the flow of the symbiont through his blood stream, tweaking it as it went, directing it straight through to the major organs instead of letting it flow unchecked through his entire body. As a result, the change had taken exactly 1.39 minutes and had involved little more than a twinge of discomfort.

Donna, on the other hand, didn't have the benefit of Time Lord physiological control. She still had vestiges of Time Lord floating through her, but not enough to matter in this case (not enough to keep him from wondering, endlessly, when he would lose her). She had convulsed in agony for a long time, pinned under the Doctor's weight as he attempted to inhibit her movements so she wouldn't hurt herself.

It had ended with her frantically pushing him off so she could run into the bathroom to vomit, spectacularly.

He had tried to hold her hair back. She had elbowed him in the stomach.

After dry heaving for what seemed like forever, she had rounded on him and frog-marched him out the bathroom, then slammed the door in his face. He'd paced nervously outside for a while before gathering the discarded towel and plaster from the floor. When she finally stalked out, smelling of toothpaste and soap and rage, he'd held out the items like a sacrificial offering.

She'd snatched the plaster from him and covered the two neat puncture wounds, already half healed, on her neck. Then she had stared at the towel for a long second as if she were wondering how she could possibly strangle him with it. Not that she could kill him via strangulation anymore, but he was willing to bet she'd give it the old college try anyway. He had backed up, prudently not approaching her again until she had settled herself in his bed. At which point he had bravely ventured to sit at the foot, and the glaring had commenced.

And that was how he now had an enraged vampire Donna trying to stake him with a spoon

"I. Can't. Believe. You!" she snarled, punctuating each word with open-handed smacks that he tried to fend off as best he could. She obviously wasn't aware of her new vampire strength!

"I'm sorry!"

"No. You're. Not!" shrieked Donna, ending with a particularly lovely smack that laid him out spread eagled on the bed.

Donna scrambled to kneel over the dazed Doctor. "You knew this was going to happen the moment you decided to bite me!" she accused.

"Well, yes, but in all fairness, if you'd thought about it just a little bit you would have figured it out, too. And you didn't ask."

Donna fumed, color high on preternaturally paler cheeks. "Of course I didn't ask - that's the kind of information you give freely! 'Hey, Donna, since you're my best mate and have kindly agreed to feed me, you should know it will turn you into a vampire too.' You don't wait to see if it occurs someone to ask!" She made a throttling movement with her hands, and the Doctor decided the intelligent thing was to grab her wrists in a bid of self-defense.

"Why wouldn't you turn into a vampire? I told you I turned into one after Henry bit me."

"You said he'd gone overboard! I assumed there had been some questionable-sort of, oh I don't know, homoerotic blood exchange. Do you read no popular novels? Didn't you ever see a single vampire film? That's how things are done, you ABSOLUTE SPACE MORON!"

"That...that's fiction, Donna. Plenty of other vampire myths have someone turning into a vampire just from being bitten," he offered. She bared her fangs at him in a completely unconscious display of rage, and he would have died rather than admit he found it enticing rather than scary.

"Bollocks! You knew I had assumed it was more complicated than that, don't try to deny it," she accused.

He tightened his grip when Donna struggled, trying to get free and maybe go for the eyes this time. "I don't know how you think!" he defended.

"You liar," she hissed.

He opened his mouth for another denial, then closed it abruptly. "Yes," he finally admitted, voice low and pained, "I'm a liar."


The truth was this:

After he had abandoned her in the arms of her family, he had spent months traveling to the farthest reaches of space and time, searching for a way to bring Donna Noble, his very best mate and the most loyal of companions, back to him. And when, against all odds and fate itself he had found a way to calm the energy raging through her brain, had brought her back to him, brought her home...

He found it wasn't enough.

Because he couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think for the wondering - when would he lose her again? A stray bullet, a misplaced step, an unknown disease; it could happen at any time. Humans were so very fragile. Even if he kept her away from anything dangerous and consigned them to years of floating harmlessly in the vortex, her human body would age and die. What could he hope for at most? 50 years?

Unless he cheated.

One of his most staunchly held rules (perhaps the only rule he hadn't yet broken) was to allow his companions to live out their normal lifespans. He'd lied to Rose, he lied to them all, he could have more time with them. All intelligent species, at some point in their development, perfected a way to extend life, and humans were no different. But he never offered. It wasn't fair to alter their natural lives when at some point they'd be expected to go back home, to a normal life with regular people and family that would die off around them. Nobody was going to give him forever, really, and he wouldn't break that rule.

Until Donna. Oh, he was willing to break so many rules for Donna — the one companion who would never ask him to do so on her behalf.

He'd thought long and hard about taking her to the peak of the Great Human Empire, giving her course after course of expensive youth longevity therapy. She could live to a very healthy, active 150. That would give him more than a century by her side before her cells broke down completely, too unstable for more treatments. Assuming an unlucky accident didn't rip her away from him before then.

And though bits of Time Lord still swirled through her blood, dormant and mysterious and capable of who knew what, they likely weren't enough to save her when her human life ended.

Logically, then, the only option was to make her not human.

His conscience had shied away from that solution for a long time, until a particularly close call had crumbled his resolve to pieces. So he studied and he planned. Cashed in favors, begged, pleaded and threatened until he found the information and exact coordinates he needed.

He had been hunting for information on a civilization so long destroyed that only the farthest reaches of the universe remembered: for a short period of time the population on the Planet of Eternal Night had flourished due to a symbiont that allowed the inhabitants to feed off each other indefinitely.

The kicker had been that the symbiont was deadly to most other species, which had been the only reason the planet had not been overrun by invaders seeking a fountain of eternal youth. The planet was largely left alone and its race would flourish briefly before a cataclysmic meteor strike would turn everything to ash.

Good thing he had a time machine, and a hardy Time Lord constitution.


"Yes," he admitted softly, "you're right. I knew you had assumed otherwise. In fact, I was counting on it."

Surprise at his admission had her hands going limp in his hold. "But why? Why would you try to trick me? Were you really that hungry?"

"Don't you see, Donna? I found a way to give you a forever and I didn't ask because..." he whispered, bringing her hands to his chest.

Donna stared at him. She'd been so angry she hadn't thought about what it all meant - no aging, no dying, pretty much immortal as long as she stayed away from sharp sticks and slathered on the sunscreen. The realization of how utterly unlikely it was that this had all been coincidental hit her like a freight train. "We didn't land on the Planet of Eternal Night by accident, did we?"

"No," he said, plainly.

"You planned this."

"Yes."

"But how? Why?"

He sat up, and she shifted aside to let him do so. Upright, he made a futile move to smooth down his wrinkled suit jacket, and she noted the minute trembling of his fingertips.

"The Planet of Eternal Night was the only location of an organism that fully halts cellular degeneration. It also causes several mutations, mimicking something not unlike Time Lord regeneration - but using infusions of a non-host's life force to keep itself alive. However, the symbiont is also quite contagious. After a while, all the residents of the Planet had contracted it. The natives were, in essence, recycling the same life force, from one to the other, endlessly. If a meteor hadn't come along and wiped the planet out, they'd all still be there. Never changing, never creating new life, just recycling over and over. Quite an evolutionary dead end, but suitable enough for my purposes."

Donna's hands were unconsciously drawn back to her new fangs. "Why wouldn't they go from world to world, biting everyone?"

"What for? They were perfectly happy as they were. The symbiont doesn't need 'fresh' energy from anyone; any life force will do, which is why it could be recycled around by the same people. Not that a few Nighters didn't go out and explore - it's where all those vampire myths come from, after all - but they found that any other species that got bitten died. The symbiont had become so tuned to the Nighter's biology that it couldn't survive in different hosts."

"Yet here we are," she pointed out needlessly, pressing the tip of her thumb to a fang to test its sharpness.

"Yes, well, the symbiont hadn't met a Time Lord before!" he said, smugly. "I processed it through my body, making a few genetic tweaks along the way, added a little bit of Time Lordiness magic," he proudly emphasized that bit with spirit fingers, "to better mix with the remnants still in you. Et voilĂ ! A Nighter symbiont mixed especially for one Donna Noble! S'why I had to have Henry bite me first."

She gaped at him for a moment, trying to process it all. "B-but you couldn't have known for sure you'd survive!"

He sniffed, half insulted. "Well, no, but...Time Lordiness!" he reminded her, more spirit fingers fluttering by her face, as if that explained everything.

She flushed with fury at the sheer idiocy of the gamble. "You. Great. Big . Time. Lord. IDIOT!" she shouted, punctuating words with hard slaps to his arm once more, killing another chance for spirit fingers. "You could have flippin' died, and yet you're proud of this!"

He expertly dodged as many smacks as he could. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be? It was a brilliant solution!"

Donna stopped her assault long enough to glare in complete exasperation. "One: you took a stupid risk! And, most importantly: choice, Doctor! How can you, of all people, not get that? It's about choices, and how you keep taking them from me and figuring it's okay since it all works out in the end. You aren't learning at all, are you!"

"But it does all work out in the end!"

"For you! What about me? What about what I want?"

The Doctor looked utterly flummoxed. "Is this not what you wanted? I-I thought you wanted to stay with me."

"Yes, but not...that doesn't mean it was up to you to change my species! It would serve you right if I left!"

"No, Donna, you can't!"

"Why not? And it better be a flippin' fantastic reason!" she raged.

"You couldn't feed off anyone else without killing them, for one."

"Yeah? Well I'm pretty sure Jack would let me take a nibble and test that theory out!"

"But Don-na! He would taste all wrong!"

She folded her arms over her chest, turning her nose up at him. "I guess that's a chance I'm just willing to take."

He dropped the cajoling whine. "You wouldn't really leave me, would you, Donna?" he asked, voice deep and serious.

"No," she admitted. "But you...you're so screwed up, you know? You give your enemies all the choices and chances in the world, but then you go out and make all these stupid decisions for the people you actually care about. It's this type of thing, Doctor, that I'm supposed to stop you from doing - being an almighty Time Lord who thinks he has the right to make these decisions for others. I'm not supposed to be the cause of you doing more stupid things."

He was quiet for what seemed an interminably long moment before raising dark, pleading eyes to her. "I know. You think I don't? You think I'm not aware that I'm rubbish without you? You're my last link to sanity, Donna. I'm hanging on by my fingertips here, and you're what keeps me from mucking everything up. I need you to stay. I need you forever."

Donna's mouth had gone utterly dry at his confession; it took her several tries to come back with anything to say. "That sounds a bit like emotional blackmail," she whispered.

His eyes closed in pain and guilt. "I know. I'm sorry."

"And what if you had died! What would I have done then!?"

He shrugged a shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes. "The TARDIS was programmed to take you back. You wouldn't have been stuck. And you know how to drive her well enough."

Donna reached up to grip her hair in frustration. "I'm not worried about getting home, you lump! Don't you get it? What do I do if you go off the deep end and do something else as idiotic as this - how am I supposed to go on if you die!?"

"How am I supposed to go on if you die?" echoed the Doctor back at her.

Donna stared at him before falling back on her heels, speechless for the first time, as everything clicked into place. He was as desperate not to be left behind as she was. She blinked rapidly to clear wayward tears, watching his slumped, defeated form. But she straightened her own shoulders and cleared her throat noisily. "Well, then," she said, loud enough to make the Doctor jump.

He tensed for rejection.

She put on her bravest face, although inside she was absolutely terrified, and continued, "Well, then, it's good I always planned to travel inside this tin box until you absolutely had to get rid of me, and now it looks like you've made that pretty impossible — so you're stuck with me now and I better not hear any complaining five hundred years from now. Because I've got all of eternity now to keep you on the straight and narrow, and don't for a second think I'll go easy on you!"

He jerked upright in shock, and disbelieving smile spreading across his face before he was throwing himself across the bed to glomp onto her, driving them both to tumble onto the mattress.

"Steady on, ferret face!" protested Donna, muffled against his neck as he squeezed her harder than she thought her ribs could take, vampire hardiness or no. She took a huge breath in an attempt to compensate, and froze.

"Oh, sorry! Sorry!" he laughed, giddy with relief, as he moved to set her free.

Except now Donna was holding on so tight, he couldn't really let go. "Donna?"

Her hands clenched tight round his back as she buried her nose behind his ear.

"Um, Donna?" he queried again.

He untangled her arms from him so he could ease back to look at her, all rumpled and dazed and flushed and delicious, her pupils dilated, gaze fixed on his throat in a glassy stare. He called her name several more times to no avail.

Concerned now, he patted her very lightly on the cheek.

Her hand flew up to grasp his wrist with her new lightning fast reflexes and he 'eeped' in surprise. Her lashes veiled her eyes as she brought his wrist to her nose, taking one long sniff before she moved her mouth to his pulse-point. She pressed her tongue to his skin and the Doctor felt all the blood in his head rush downward to his clenching stomach. He made a tiny sound of unmistakable want.

Donna's eyes snapped open at the telltale noise, the greenish blue brilliant as she smiled against his skin. "Oh, so it's like that, is it?"

He groaned, deep and heartfelt, as she sucked lightly on the inside of his wrist. "What, my making you a vampire so you could stay with me forever wasn't a big enough clue?"

She reared up, releasing his wrist, and straddled him in order to push him pliantly onto his back. Then she was nuzzling his neck, taking deep breaths of his scent. He pulled her hips down so she settled on his quite obvious erection.

"But you said 'Just mates'?" she reminded him, wryly.

"I lied. I lie a lot."

"I noticed."

She could hear the rapid double-beats of his hearts: all that lovely, potent blood flowing through his veins.

She was thirstier than she's been in her entire life, including that one time in Egypt where she lost her water bottle and refused to buy an overpriced replacement off the vendors on the street. It was like it had hit her all at once, as soon as she'd gotten the chance to feel his skins against hers and smelled his fabulous scent. Suddenly their argument seemed absolutely insignificant in the face of this thirst and the potent pheromones he gave off.

She nuzzled closer and set her lips to his throat. He groaned beneath her again and she forced herself still, until his hands wrapped hard around her waist and he muttered an anxious, "It's okay. Go ahead."

She opened her mouth and shyly, carefully pressed her fangs to the fragile skin. How did you even bite someone hard enough to draw blood but not enough to maim? she wondered fleetingly, before some type of instinct took over and she was pressing down enough for her fangs to pierce skin, blood welling immediately into her mouth.

It tasted divine! Sweet and salty all at once; not the viscous metal she'd imagined. It was warm sunshine going down her throat, hitting her stomach. But the sunshine traveled even lower until it pooled in more intimate places, sparking off all those nerve endings that made her feel hot and tight. The Doctor was making strained, whimpering noises beneath her, hands pressing her down hard against him. She rubbed against him so that pleasure built, full-bodied, and she was coming hard even as that same ingrained instinct had her disengaging her fangs so she wouldn't take too much.

The ecstasy held her suspended for a span of an endless heartbeat before she collapsed on the Doctor, dizzy and reeling from the orgasm. The dizziness wasn't helped by being jostled with the rapid rising and falling of the Doctor's chest beneath her as he took in great gasping lungfulls of air.

"Does it always feel that way? Like a nuclear explosion in your pants?" she asked muzzily.

His labored breathing turned into a high-pitched giggle. "An explosion in your pants?"

She smacked his side halfheartedly with a languid hand. No energy for more just now. "Yeah. Did Henry rock your pinstripes when he bit you?"

"No. Felt nothing like this. This is all me."

That most definitely required a response of some type, so she garnered enough energy to raise up to look him in the face, doubtful. "Riiiight. Is this your way of trying to convince me not to test it out on Jack?"

"Don-na!"

"Doc-tor!" she mimicked.

The Doctor's arms flew up to press her down so she fell flat onto his chest again with an "oof", face squished against his shoulder so she couldn't talk. "No, really. It's my fault. I'm apparently rubbish at keeping my psychic barriers up while we're feeding. My feelings flood over into you."

She poked him in the side sharply enough for him to loosen his hold so she could sit up, bracing her hands on his chest. "So you really have been this horny over me all this time?"

He balked. "Well, don't put it like that!"

Donna snickered, and continued to poke him mercilessly until he was twisting under her. "The randy old Doctor, after my poor innocent body all along!" she singsonged, evading his attempts to grab her hands.

"I'll make sure to work harder at keeping my barriers controlled," he assured her stiffly, affronted

She snorted and got in one last poke before allowing herself to be pulled back down. "Don't you dare!"

"What, after all your complaining?"

"Oh, I'm not complaining!" she assured him as she started to work his shirt buttons loose. "In fact, I say we see just how completely we can get those barriers to drop, shall we?" she asked cheekily before gleefully settling lower to find other places to...nibble.


Several hours later...

A seasoned CSI investigator would have blanched at the sight –- it looked as if a bloody war had been waged in the room. Crimson splattered the white linens on the bed in interesting patterns. In the middle of the bed lay the pale, nude form of the Doctor, blank, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling, the most blood splattered one of all.

"Doctor?"

No sound. Donna nudged a cold, unresponsive shoulder with a sharp finger. She may have gone a bit overboard, but it was harder than it looked, not making a mess!

"Doctor." He didn't blink, nor did his naked chest raise with a breath.

"OI, DOCTOR!"

"Whaaaaat?" he whined, finally, eyes blinking glassily as he took one wheezy breath. "Can't a man bask in the afterglow?"

"You aren't a man," Donna snickered. "You're a Spacetianamp."

The Doctor managed a headtilt. "Is that a new type of lamp from Ikea?"

"It's a Space Martian Vampire, your new nickname." At his unimpressed look, Donna sighed, insulted. "Okay, look, you may think coming up with snappy nicknames is easy, but it's not, and I'm trying my best."

"It would probably help if you got rid of the Martian part, since I'm not from Mars, as well you know."

"You're awfully snappy for a Spacetianamp who was supposedly basking," she noted, running a hand through her tangled hair, unconcerned by her own nudity.

"No, seriously, please no."

"Vamptian? Spacevamp? Martianire?"

"No, no and no. Especially when I know exactly what you should call me."

"And what's that? Because it's not going to be 'love stallion' no matter what I may have said under the influence."

"No, I was thinking maybe...husband?" he queried tentatively.

"...oh. Oh!" Donna's blue-green eyes went wide with distress. The room reeled around her a little and she had to clutch onto the sheets to keep from keeling right over.

"Should I be insulted that you seem more bothered by the idea of marriage to me than by an unplanned change in species?" the Doctor asked haltingly.

"I...I...it's just...marriage."

The Doctor sat up stiffly, snagging a pillow to cover himself, feeling very vulnerable in the face of her obvious disgust at the idea of marriage.

"Yes, Donna, marriage," he mocked, in the same exaggerated tone.

Donna plucked at the bloodstained sheets, casting him one nervous sideways glance as she took in the hurt undertones in his voice. "I... Doctor, it's not you, it-"

"By Rassilon, if you actually say 'it's not you, it's me' I will save you the trouble and stake myself!"

"Oh, Doctor. I have such very bad luck with weddings," she whispered, eyes wide.

The insulted line of his shoulders dropped at her scared tone. "It wouldn't be the same," he assured her.

"No, but, you see, Lance wanted to feed me to a spider. I mean, what are the odds, right? And then Shawn - he was a real decent bloke, Doctor, honest - and I just messed it up. Aren't we good like this?"

"You did promise me forever."

"You're getting it in spades. A real forever now, thanks to you. Isn't that enough?"

"No, it never does seem to be, with you," he mused.

"What's that mean?" said Donna, hands still restlessly twisting the bed sheets into knots.

He watched her nervous hands for one long, silent moment. Then he pulled himself closer to her and trapped their movement with his. Without thought, her hands turned and their fingers laced, and the completely natural feeling of it gave him the strength for honesty.

"At first I thought, if I could just get you back. Fix you, get you back on the TARDIS. Oh, wouldn't it be grand! The Doctor and Donna, partners in crime back on track. My best mate and I on a tour of the Universe. What great fun! And it was, it was wonderful fun. It is wonderful fun. But then...then I thought, what happens when Donna gets older? How long do I really have?"

He looked up from their joined hands to catch her green gaze with his. She blinked in understanding. "Not that long. Not forever. Not your forever," Donna clarified with sympathy. "But that's when you find someone else."

"No," he said simply. "No one else, not anymore. I don't want anyone else. So, genius that I am, I decided I would find a way to make your forever match mine."

His hands raised hers to his chest, and he squeezed them tightly. "But now, apparently, that's not enough either. Marry me."

"You don't need marriage to keep me, Doctor. I'm already here. I'm yours."

"I want it official. I want it known. I don't ever want to hear someone call us a couple and you say 'no, never, we aren't a couple.'"

"Oi! I recall you denying it just as much, mister. You were just as upset that they kept confusing us for a couple!"

"Yes, well, I was lying. I thought we established that I was a liar. Keep up, Donna."

She grabbed the pillow he was using to keep himself decent, and whacked him over the head with it. "Can we even get married? Like in a church and stuff, without the both of us bursting into flames?"

"We'd only burst into flames if we got married on the planet Volcanix, but why would you want to go there? The weather's positively atrocious." He blocked another pillow smack coming his way before pulling it from her hands, smiling, smug.

She rolled her eyes in aggravation. "No, you git. I mean, from us being vampires. You know, holy water, crosses, evil undead. All that stuff?"

"That's a myth, Donna."

"Well how the hell am I supposed to know anymore!" she waved her arms in aggravation, making her naked breasts bounce in a way the Doctor appreciated, thoroughly. Appreciated so much, in fact, that thought of all else was pushed aside, hands following what his eyes had greedily taken in.

And then it was all sighs and moans and trying to not get any more blood on the sheets, because surely the TARDIS wouldn't appreciate that. And at the end of everything, when Donna was screaming out "YES!" it was both in ecstasy and in agreement to becoming his wife.

Later, sated and sleepy in their new, clean room, Donna would threaten him with bodily harm if he didn't get her an absolutely ginormous ring, before falling asleep with one last snuggle as the Doctor grinned up at the ceiling.


Epilogue

As the final stop in what had turned out to be a six-month honeymoon tour, they went to Isis 25-X, renown for its secluded sandy beaches, tropical waters, and three brilliant turquoise suns on rotation through an amber sky.

Donna stood by the console, slathering on the special sunblock the Doctor had created for them. The Doctor and she had had no issues so far with sun in any other planet. But the UV spectrum of any given star was different, and every time they entered a new galaxy they had to be extra cautious.

The Doctor danced to the door and made sure to stand in the shadows as he flung them wide. He turned his head away and carefully stuck a little finger out into the sunlight.

No bursting into flames. Good sign. "We're good!" he proclaimed.

"You're bound to lose a pinky one day," noted Donna.

"I'll grow a new one."

Donna couldn't resist a naughty grin. "Oh really? Anything else you can grow a new one of? Do you take requests?"

He pointed his uninjured finger at her. "Behave! Now, c'mon," He grabbed Donna's arm and hauled her towards the doors.

"Wait, I'm not done with the sunscreen."

"I said we're fine; don't need the sunscreen!"

"Well, don't know if you've noticed but I'm still a redhead, and even if you claim it's impossible, I refuse to find out I'm not immune from freckles."

"But I love your freckles!"

"Don't you worry, there are still plenty of them for you to enjoy. Just don't plan on getting new ones."

She dug in her heels right at the door and he let her, too impatient to wait inside or explain, once again, how vampires couldn't really get new freckles. So he bounded out fully into the sunshine.

"Oooh, Donna, it's gorgeous; you'll love it!"

She finished rubbing the lotion onto her cleavage, exposed as it was by her swimsuit, and finally looked up just as she was getting ready to settle her sunglasses on her nose. She saw the Doctor standing right outside on soft white sand, in Bermuda shorts and an unopened, short-sleeved shirt she'd bullied him into wearing.

She gaped, spluttered, then dropped to the floor, laughing so hard her legs gave out.

"Donna?" the Doctor called, concerned, until he realized she wasn't going into a fit but was, in fact, laughing her figurative pants off. "What now?" he asked, aggrieved to be missing out on the joke.

"G-g-glittering! Glittery vampire!"

He frowned and looked about cautiously over his shoulder. "That's impossible. No such thing as glit-"

Donna cut him off by laughing harder and pointing at him. The Doctor gaped at her, then looked down at himself, his bare chest and legs and arms..

"Dear Rassilon's crooked cock, I am! Donna! Donna, I'm a glittery vampire!"

Donna rolled on the floor of the TARDIS, holding her sides. "Y-y-you totally are!"

The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he glared at his wife, before a smile broke through. Then he was bounding back inside just long enough to haul her up and drag her outside with him.

"As are you!" he stated, delighted.

Her laughter ended on a horrified screech. She looked down at her own sparkling bare arms and legs, then began to dance in place and smack her hands over herself, as if she could shake the glitter off. It stayed put. "Awww, fuck."

It was the Doctor's turn to laugh now, and he was still laughing as he dragged her down onto the soft sand to get his hands and mouth on all that gorgeous, shimmering cleavage. When he finally traveled up to her mouth, she wasn't cursing anymore.


Fin

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Chapter 3: Little nibbles (Complications)

Author's Notes: I thought this story was completed...I was wrong. Vamp!Doctor&Donna are still messing with my head. These take place shortly after the epilogue of "Just a Bite." Donna is acclimating to being a vamp, and there are a few complications....


The Doctor groaned, his hands lost in Donna's hair as she pressed him against the wall.

Donna had dragged him into the deep shadows between two buildings, away from prying eyes. It wasn't the most ideal location, but she still lacked control. The hunger seemed to hit her at the most inopportune times, whereas the Doctor seemed able to manage his feeding schedule more regularly.

The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, unconsciously dropping his head against the wall to extend his throat, giving her mouth better access. He had to free one hand from the richness of her hair to press it against his mouth, trying to stifle his moans. Donna's hands had sneaked under his coat and pulled his shirt from his trousers to run over his back, sharp nails digging in.

"D–nnngh–a…a-almost done?" he managed to ask through a shudder, hand shooting from his mouth to his own hair, clenching tight in a bid for self-control.

She nodded against his neck, released him for a second – just long enough to mutter "damn" and try to catch a drop of red before it stained his collar – and bit down again. The Doctor yelped and bucked against her. His hands dropped to scrabble at the wall behind him, trying to anchor himself to it in some way so that his wayward body would behave. A soft, pleased hum from Donna had his control fraying even further. Before he could stop himself, he hoisted Donna up against him, hands on her bum, so he could press intimately against her. Her hum transformed into a muffled noise of surprise as her legs wrapped around his hips for balance.

"Hurry," he pleaded through gritted teeth. "Or I'll take you straight through your trousers."

The strained warning only served to egg Donna on, as the desperation he was feeling bled into her through his faltering psychic walls. She bit down harder, delicious crimson filling her mouth in a rush (she'd been trying so hard to be neat!) and the Doctor made a strangled sound of surrender as his control shattered.

He spun them around, reversing their positions so her back pressed against the wall now. His weight kept her pinned there as his hands traveled feverishly over any bit of her he could reach. Shaking fingers plucked at her trousers and gripped her thighs, blindly seeking flesh, to no avail. Finally he resorted to humping against her with no regard for anything else - blind and deaf to the crowds on the busy streets only steps away - just craving the feel of her against him, the friction of her body through their clothing, and the rush of his blood flowing into her.

Donna shifted her hips against him with equal fervor, ankles locked behind his back, even as she drank more deeply. One more driving thrust had him coming hard, with a shout he didn't bother muffling. The psychic projection of it hit Donna in relentless waves and had her releasing his neck so she could throw her head back in shared pleasure.

She smacked the back of her head into the brick wall behind her, but barely cared.

After long seconds of hard breathing – the orgasm and slight blood loss had lights still flashing behind his eyes – he finally let go of his grip on her thighs. She slid down the length of his body, her legs shaky beneath her. In delayed reaction, she gingerly touched the back of her head. "Ouch," she said.

The Doctor pressed his own hand to her head, checking for broken skin. Not that it mattered; she would have healed it in minutes, but the instinct to check was still there. She let him fuss for a second, until he was reassured that she was fine. Now It was her turn to fuss with him, as she tried to adjust the collar of his shirt.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

Donna kept her eyes firmly planted on his neck, feeling a blush creep from her throat to her cheeks.

"You ruined another one of my shirts, didn't you?" he accused, a laugh in his voice.

Donna tried futilely to hide the blood-stained collar of his shirt with his jacket. "I told you to wear darker shirts," she muttered. She had tried to be so careful, too, in not spilling!

She gave up, stepped back, looked at him, and then let her own humor free. "But you don't need to worry, though, cuz no one will notice."

"Oh?" he queried, craning his neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his collar.

"Nope. Not with that ginormous wet spot on your trousers."

The Doctor looked down at himself in horrified realization, while Donna snickered. "Oh, no! Donna, I can't walk around like this!"

"Why not? Tribbles are asexual. They won't know what it is."

"No, they'll just think I pissed myself!"

Donna's giggles echoed through the alleyway.

"It's not funny!" the Doctor protested, buttoning up his long coat in order to conceal the evidence. "You need to learn to control your hunger!"

She snorted. "You need to learn to control your barriers!"

The Doctor looked up at this, finishing with the last button. Donna leaned languidly against the wall, flushed and soft, with a satisfied gleam in her eye and a smile still stretching her lips.

He stepped up to crowd her against the wall again, and laid a warm, long, heartfelt kiss on those lips. "Neither one of us wants me to control my barriers, though, do we?" he whispered against her mouth.

Donna nipped his bottom lip playfully. "Naaah, not really."

He hugged her tight before releasing her and looping a companionable arm around her. "I propose a compromise, then!"

"Whazzat?" she queried, leading them towards the mouth of the alley..

He turned his head to leer at her by raising a ridiculous eyebrow. "You start wearing skirts more often."

She grinned, reaching over to lower that wayward eyebrow with a finger. "I will take it under advisement," she demurred. "Now let's go save some Tribbles from trouble," she laughed, and took them back out into the sunshine.


Another nibble....Later later, in a galaxy far far away

"And furthermore, how dare you subjugate these people, when it was their medicine that helped your kind fight off the virus in the first place! If you don't-" the Doctor paused mid-rant, arm raised threateningly, sonic at the ready. A cold nose was edging aside his shirt collar.

He skewed his gaze sideways, seeing Donna's red head bent over his shoulder, snuffling at his neck.

"Uh, Donna? Don't know if you've noticed, but I'm sort of mid righteous indignation here."

She raised glazed, dilated blue eyes at him. "Hmmm?" she asked, distracted.

He recognized that look instantly, and began to explain hurriedly. "Remember? Planet Frjklsknmin? The enslavement of the friendly Frjkls by the Knmin? No? Not ringing a bell?"

Donna's brow furrowed, and she glanced at the huge, imposing form of the Warrior Emperor Knmin, who was looking less imposing and more confused as he watched them.

Her hand had traveled to the Doctor's tie and began to pull it loose as she leaned forward and whispered urgently in the Doctor's ear.

"No, Donna!" exclaimed the Doctor, trying to disengage her hand from his tie. "We can't 'just come back later.' After all our hard work getting this revolution started, we've got him right where we want him!"

"I get that, I do," Donna assured him, though her hands were back to plucking at his collar. "But how about just 5 minutes? Please? A tiny bite? I'm suddenly starving."

"You ate last night!" he protested.

"Well I can't help it, can I?! You shoulda thought of this when you created a vampire with a human/Time Lord metabolism - I'm trying my best!" she argued, before her nose was back at his neck, taking a deep breath. "And it's just that you smell delicious. How 'bout I eat, you talk?" she suggested in a throaty tone.

The roughened quality to her voice let the Doctor know that she was seconds away from biting down. He frantically tried to fortify his mental shields as fast as possible, knowing that trying to delay was useless at this point. Donna stood on tiptoes and took a delicate nip.

"Urk!" garbled the Doctor, before steeling himself. One arm went around Donna's waist to clench at her coat, steadying them both.

Emperor Knmin was starting to look a bit concerned, watching the strange red-headed one apparently go for the male's throat. They had seemed to be compatriots only seconds ago! He shifted restlessly on his throne, catching the Doctor's eye. "Has your partner gone insane!?" he demanded, bewildered.

"Yeah, that's right!" blustered the Doctor. "You anger Donna, she will rip your throat out, doesn't matter who you are! Won't you Donna?"

Donna hummed against his neck, and the Doctor's knees almost gave out.

He tried to focus on the spooked Emperor. "But where was I? Yes...yes...um, the Frjkls helped you survive and you...you did...something-" One of Donna's hands traveled up his neck to drag through his hair. His voice went up an octave. "S-Something bad. Didn't you?" the Doctor lost his train of thought, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. With effort, he snatched at words. "Shame on you!" he waved the sonic in the Emperor's general direction.

Delightful tendrils of electricity were swimming lazily up the Doctor's spine, no matter how hard he tried to contain the emotion. And as it was wont to do, it passed straight from him on to Donna. Her fingers began to toy with his shirt buttons.

He slapped a hand over hers, trying to still her movements. She wriggled her hips against his thigh in open invitation.

"Oh!" he gasped. He turned his head to bury his face in her fragrant hair. His hand drifted from her waist to her bum before he was able to command it to stop. "Okay, okay. Ahhhh...all right...can't do this. Um..." he shuffled back a few feet, taking Donna with him. "YOU!" he pointed suddenly at the Emperor. The Emperor jumped, startled.

"You stay right there! Don't you move! Or...or this...this and worse will happen to you!" he bluffed. The Emperor looked absolutely horrified, especially when he spied a tendril of blood seeping down to stain the Doctor's shirt. He nodded frenetically.

"Good. Good...ah...Donna, sweetheart, we have to...I have to - " He managed to pull them both behind one of the massive pillars that lined the throne room.

Emperor Knmin sat stunned for one long second, before he dared to move cautiously from his throne. He took one long breath, peering into the murky shadows by the pillars. He couldn't see the outworlders, so it stood to reason they couldn't see him. He marshaled his courage and began to edge away.

A groan broke out and echoed through the cavernous room. Emperor Knmin froze, eyes wide.

The sound of ripping fabric preceded a sudden pounding force, hitting the column the outworlders hid behind. Pained grunts reached his ears. Were they battling to the death?!

A sudden feminine shriek filled the air. The Emperor thought perhaps the male had finally won, but a second later the male screamed in what sounded like horrific pain.

What kind of bloodthirsty animals were they?!

Trembling, the Emperor hurried to sit back on his throne. He wouldn't dare anger these creatures further!

A bit later Donna emerged, straightening her skirt so the side zipper aligned correctly with her hips. She wiped her mouth with a lady-like swipe of her thumb.

The Doctor followed, hair mussed as though he had survived a particularly windy storm. His shirt was untucked, the collar wet with dark red, and the buttons had pinged free to expose his pale chest. He tightened his tie fastidiously, as though that could compensate for the state of his shirt.

They both came to stand before the Emperor once more. The Doctor cleared his throat. "So, where was I?"

Awkward silence fell, until Donna helpfully supplied, "Shame on you?"

The Doctor snapped his fingers in recollection. "Yes! Yes, shame on you!" he reiterated, fixing a scowl on his face. "We demand that you abandon the throne, or we'll be forced to-"

"Take it! Take it and whatever else you want. I will turn myself in, I will do what you say." the Emperor turned panicked eyes toward Donna. "Just don't let her attack me!"

The Doctor snapped his mouth shut, while Donna's jaw dropped open. They turned to look at each other in perfect synchronicity. They both colored brightly, before a giggle bubbled up Donna's throat.

"Yeah, mate, no worries there. I'll keep my 'attacking' to just the Doctor, shall I?" drawled Donna.

The poorly-armed Frjkl rebels chose that moment to break through the doors, streaming into the room. They had come expecting a battle with the massive Emperor, and instead found a quivering heap of penitent royalty sitting docilely on the throne.

"Our work here is done!" exclaimed the Doctor, weaving through the crowd of cheering Frjkls.

"Yep," agreed Donna, swinging their clasped hands. "We did good."

He beamed down at her. "I told you skirts were a good idea! Even if you did kill another one of my shirts."

"I was doing really good this time!" Donna protested.

The Doctor looked down at his torn and stained shirt. "Yes, I can see that."

"The buttons were your fault!"

"How were they my fault?! You ripped them!"

"Okay, so I might have, but only because I was trying to keep the collar clear. And I told you to start wearing dark shirts. Why don't you?"

"The light blue brings out my eyes!"

"Your eyes are brown!"

"It brings out the brown in my eyes!"

"You're mad as a hatter."

"The Hatter is a lovely, misunderstood man! You don't even know him-"

Only the sound of the TARDIS dematerializing finally silenced their happy argument.


To be continued...time to tell the family!

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