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!