You probably guessed what the Doctor was doing there.
Oh, and Cash In The Attic is one of those addictive daytime TV programmes students love to watch.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m sleeping, of course,” he answered nonchalantly. “That’s what beds are made for.”
Donna was not amused! “I’m talking about you being in my bed, you bloody idiot!”
“So it’s true,” Sarah Jane stated, deep in thought. “And I thought you never would lower yourself.”
“What are you both talking about?! I haven’t done anything wrong apart from fall asleep before I could get to my own bed,” he told them sternly. “Tell her, Donna, how we sat and waited for the aliens to come back last night. What is all the fuss about?”
Donna shrugged in agreement. “Well, we did sort of sit here and wait; that’s true. But I never let him sleep in here.” She then thumped him again. Hard. “This really isn’t on, Martian.”
“Are you saying you don’t remember how we got here either?” he asked Donna.
“That’s right; focus on the least important aspect of this scenario,” she scoffed sarcastically. “Oh no, this isn’t embarrassing in the slightest, finding yourself in bed with a strange man.”
“I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve… Ouch! That really hurts!” He rubbed his arm again, scowling at her as he did so. “Do you have to keeping hitting me?!”
“I dunno. Do you have to keep being such a tart?” she retorted.
“Surely the point is why you both fell asleep like you did,” Luke sauntered in to mention, munching on a piece of toast as he entered the room. “Those aliens obviously knocked you out or hypnotised you both. Now why would they bother doing that?”
“Ooh, well done!” the Doctor encouraged Luke’s thinking enthusiastically. “Now where did I put my sonic screwdriver…?” He swept his hands underneath the bed covers over the mattress beside him, until he squeaked loudly and shot off the bed.
Donna gritted her teeth as she told him, “Wherever it is, I don’t think you’ll find it there, Martian!”
“Where did he touch you, Donna?” Luke immediately asked, creeping closer.
“Never you mind,” Donna huffed indignantly, wondering how she could get him back for touching up her bum, and pulled the covers tightly around her body. “If you could all leave so that I can get dressed, please,” she questioned the room in a strained voice.
“Oh! Of course!” Sarah Jane cried out, and instantly ushered Luke back out of the room. “I’ll have breakfast ready for you in a couple of minutes. I’ll see you then.” With a bright smile she was gone.
Donna sighed in relief. Good! One problem dealt with. And then she noticed the Doctor peering at her over the edge of the bed, looking like a drunk hamster. “You still here?!”
“Apparently,” he replied, and climbed up onto the mattress. “There is one thing you didn’t explain,” he commented.
“Didn’t I? Which thing is that?” she wondered, eyeing him warily as he positioned himself on the duvet.
“Today’s newspaper,” he supplied. “Why did it upset you so?”
“Oh that!” She had clean forgotten about that piece of tosh. The mere thought made her go a rather fetching bright pink, the Doctor decided. “I got snapped by the paparazzi.”
“Really? Can I see?” he asked, reaching out for the newspaper that still sat on top of the bed.
Her hand shot out and landed on his as it eased the newspaper nearer. “I’d better warn you… it isn’t just me. They also photographed me with someone else. Someone who is you.”
“Me?!” His eyebrows almost disappeared up in his hairline in a bid to display his surprise. “Why did they include me?”
“You’d better look,” she said resignedly. She took the newspaper from his grasp and opened it up to the relevant page.
There, in one large picture, was the two of them leaving the studio, and the caption “Mystery new lover seen with daytime queen Donna Noble” In the smaller picture he was helping her into a car. Within the article text, a person ‘close to the couple’ stated that they were ‘acting over friendly’, were ‘extremely in love’ and had ‘spent every available second together’ recently.
“What does this mean?” he enquired as he gazed at her in confusion. “What close person? Where did they get all this from?”
“It would seem, Dr John Smith, that you and I are now an established item, according to this paper’s sources; and I suspect a certain TV director is responsible for that snippet of misdirection,” she answered honestly. “Isn’t that wizard?!”
“Utterly fantastic,” he agreed sarcastically. “Unless you fancy making it slightly true?” he risked asking with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.
Inevitably she thumped him.
“How will all this affect you, Donna,” Sarah Jane wondered later as all three adults sat drinking their breakfast tea in the kitchen.
“I’ve yet to find out. Normally the newspapers couldn’t care less about me and chase after younger women.” Donna sighed. “But then again I’m not normally with a bloke. I suppose I’ll have loads of unwanted attention tonight when we go to the awards ceremony. Oh great. Just what I need when I lose to Cash In The Attic.”
“Can’t you use it to your advantage,” suggested the Doctor. “I’m sure you can think of a way.”
Donna considered that option. “It seems I’ll have to, seeing as the new adult trailer will be shown during the commercial break, Dr Sex Therapist.”
Sarah Jane spluttered into her mug, resulting in Donna having to pat her on the back. “He’s a what?!”
“Sex therapist,” Donna repeated self-contentedly. “I got him to talk nonstop about sex.”
If he were human she could imagine him talking nonstop during sex. “What does he know… about making a TV programme?” Sarah Jane successfully recovered her question. When he glared at her, she added, “Since you don’t deal with that sort of thing.”
“I am not completely ignorant of human ways and practices,” he defended himself. “And Bunty told me I coped ably.”
“Bunty is the director,” Donna supplied when Sarah Jane looked puzzled. “John really did well during yesterday’s recording, and spouted all sorts of psychoanalytical terminology when necessary,” she continued. “He was a star!”
The Doctor sat trying not to look self-satisfied and failing dismally. “I’d say stellar,” he joked.
Sarah Jane kept the comment of ‘I’d say smug’ completely to herself. It was safer that way.
“Can somebody come and do me up?!” Donna yelled out in desperation from her bedroom. No matter how she twisted and turned she could not get the long zip on her dress done up.
Within seconds Luke ran to the door. “I’ll help, Donna,” he gleefully offered; and went to enter the room but he was quickly shooed out of the way.
“I’ll deal with this,” the Doctor ordered, pushing Luke aside.
Donna grumbled, “I don’t care who does the honours, just get this bloody thing done up before I change into a pair of jeans.”
“That would be something to see as a magic trick,” the Doctor commented as his fingers took hold of her zip. Half a second later the dress was safely dealt with. “Do you want help with your necklace too?” he asked, surreptitiously taking in the aroma of her skin.
“Yes, please,” Donna answered; closing her eyes against the enticing waft of his aftershave. Boy he looked good in his evening suit! But she was immune to all that; she had to be.
He efficiently lifted up the necklace and placed his fingers on her neck. Their eyes met in that instant as want raced through them. “You look lovely,” he complimented her, and saw the blush up close as it crept across her skin, enchanting him.
“Thanks! You don’t scrub up so bad yourself,” she risked saying. “I know this will sound daft, but are you really an alien. I mean, from outer space and everything?”
He frowned. “Yes. I thought you knew that.”
“I do,” she confirmed. “But it isn’t every day you meet a genuine Martian called John Smith.”
How many Martians did she tend to meet? “Ah, about the John Smith part,” he began to confess. “It’s an alias.”
She quirked an interested eyebrow at him. “Then what is it really?”
“The Doctor,” he inevitably replied.
“No, really; what is your name,” she tried again.
“As I said, it’s the Doctor. Why does nobody ever believe it?” he asked, clearly peeved.
“Because it sounds stupid as a name,” she answered. “It’s perfectly fine as a job title.”
He sniffed his disagreement, and covered his anger by adjusting his tie.
“You’ve gone and made it go all wonky now,” she chastised him, reaching up to grab the silk material. “Come here and let me deal with it.”
He watched intently as she fiddled with the tie, then his collar, and then finally ran her hands down his chest. Not that he enjoyed it in the slightest, he told himself; apart from the pampering, and the fondness in her voice. Oh, and the look in her eyes as she concentrated on her task; he liked that one too. But aside from all that, it didn’t do anything for him once you took into account that she was pressed up tight to his body. No, nobody would be convinced by that at all.
Whilst she was still standing far too close to him then she felt was appropriate, she asked, “What would you like me to call you tonight; or any time come to think of it?”
“Dar... Doctor will do fine,” he stammered as he answered. Oops! He almost said ‘darling’ then. Good job he caught himself in time.
“But that sounds as though I’m walking around with my shrink,” she breathily protested.
“Well, we will be telling everyone I’m a therapist,” he reasoned, lifting a hand to sweep back a stray hair from her face.
“It sounds a bit wrong to have a sex therapist on tap like that; as if we were going to run into a cupboard every so often and have mad passionate sex,” she blurted out before its implications hit her sensitivities, and she blushed a deeper red. “Not that I’m saying we’d disappear into…,” she mumbled. “And I’ll shut up now.”
My, how he wanted to smudge her lipstick in that moment! And not necessarily using his thumb… Instead he chuckled. “You can call me anything you feel comfortable with. I’m here to protect you, first and foremost, but we can have fun with this.”
Donna held her breath as he eased forward, bringing those tempting lips closer and closer. “What sort of fun?” she deliberately flirted.
“How about…?” He was so close there was no doubt in her mind what he was going to try next.
“Car’s here!” yelled out Luke, causing them to break apart. He appeared at the bedroom door almost out of breath. “There’s a huge limo just turned up outside!” he announced, grinning with elation. “Wow! You look great! I wish I was going with you.”
“Maybe I can rustle you up a ticket if I ever get nominated again,” Donna said, patting his arm as she walked passed him. She then stood trying to calm herself down on the landing. “Well, I’m ready. Are you?” she asked the Doctor as she accepted her evening bag from him.
“After you,” he replied, ushering her to the stairs; and they made their way down as gracefully as they could.
After words of good luck and confirmation that they looked okay, Donna and the Doctor climbed into the limo. Feeling very grand as they were driven along, she shot him an anxious smile, and was heartened when he took her hand. “Just enjoy the evening,” he whispered. “You look fabulous, I’m here, and if any life form tries to upset you, I’ll deal with it.”
She grinned at him in relief. “Do you know what? Sometimes I really like having you here.” She then squeezed his hand mischievously. “Now all we have to get through is you being my sex toy. Piece of cake, really,” she remarked sarcastically.
His face was an absolute picture! She’d got her revenge for that morning.