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locker_monsterTitle: Noble Gesture (1/1)
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,179
Characters: Twelve, Donna
Timeline: Set post-"The Girl Who Died"; no spoilers
Summary: The Doctor finds the courage to check up on an old friend.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns all.
A/N: Entry for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
who_contest's "Hindsight" challenge.
His hearts were pounding.
The Doctor was used to an elevated heartrate, it was a common side effect of running for your life, but he wasn't running away from anything dangerous today. No, today, he was headed towards something of a different variety.
His destination was across the street. All he needed to do was to cross the road to reach it. One foot in front of the other. Bi-pedal motion. Easy. Simple. So why couldn't he move his feet?
You're nervous, the Doctor told himself. You're two thousand years old and you're nervous.
He much preferred fleeing from an alien threat.
The traffic cleared, presenting him with an opportunity to safely cross the road. He could turn back. It was a valid option. No one had forced him to come here. He could return to the TARDIS and fly off and it wouldn't do any harm to the universe.
But he would always know that he came all the way here with good intentions and he had been too anxious to cross the street.
The Doctor stepped off the curb.
Had he been more focused on his surroundings, he would have spotted the cab coming towards him, but he didn't, and the vehicle had to swerve around him to avoid hitting him. The driver drove off, honking the horn madly. The Doctor barely noticed.
The office was plain on the outside, or so he assumed; he didn't have much experience with offices. There was no logo stenciled on the window or a notice detailing the arbitrary hours of the humans inside. The only indication that there was a business in the space was a 8.5 by 11 printed sign taped to the front of the door.
A Charitable Earth.
The logo of the company consisted of the letters A, C, and E in red over a stylized drawing of the Earth. A.C.E., mused the Doctor as he opened the door. That seemed so familiar.
The office was less bare inside. Six desks were arranged in two rows facing the window. Half were set up with computers while the other half had boxes or stacks of paper piled on top. A tall fern sat in the far corner, the only splash of green in the painted white room. Framed photos leaned against the walls, waiting to be hung.
Only one person was present amongst the disorganization. She was digging around one of the boxes, searching through the contents for something. With her back turned to the Doctor, she didn't see him enter.
His heartrate increased, making it seem like he had a hummingbird trapped inside his ribcage. He took a deep breath, but it did nothing to ease how awkward he felt. Calm. He had to be calm. She couldn't realize who he was.
"Hello." His voice was steady when he spoke, but he had a lot of practice at sounding more confident than he felt.
The woman stopped her rummaging and she turned to look at him. For just a split second, she had a smile on her face, but when she realized that she didn't know him, her expression turned neutral. "Can I help you?" Her words had a slight edge to them, like she was fighting to sound polite rather than annoyed.
The Doctor nearly replied with, "You already have", but he stopped himself. Of course, this left a void in his mind and he scrambled to come up with another response. While his mind worked to string the appropriate words together, he couldn't help but stare at her.
The last time he saw her, it had been at a wedding, her wedding in fact. It had been a few years since then, assuming he had landed the TARDIS in the correct year, but she hadn't changed at all. She was still as fierce and bright and extraordinary as he remembered.
"Um, hello? Are you all right?" A slight frown pulled at the corners of her mouth.
"I'm lost," said the Doctor, having decided that it was the least suspicious reply. "Do you know where Holborn tube station is?"
She shoved the box aside. "Is GPS on your mobile not working?"
"I don't have a mobile."
"Oh." Her expression softened. If all she saw was a lost old man, then that was fine with the Doctor. It actually wasn't that far from the truth. "So you just picked a building at random, hoping someone would help you?"
He detected a hint of amusement in her voice, but it wasn't the same level of friendliness that used to exist between them. "Yours looked the least threatening."
"Thanks for the compliment, I think." She moved over to one of the desks that had a computer. "I'll print you some directions from Google Maps."
The Doctor drifted over, trying to look like he was idly wandering about the office. When he rounded around her desk, he took a quick glance of the contents laid out on the surface. It was mostly paperwork for the charity and office supplies, but there were two framed photos. "Husband?" he asked, gesturing to one photo of a middle aged man with brown hair and dark skin.
"Yeah. Shaun."
The other photo featured the woman, her husband, an older woman with light blonde hair, and an old man with white hair and a white beard. They all smiled for the camera. They looked happy.
Are you happy? the Doctor wanted to ask. It wasn't an odd question. He could be a nosy old man who didn't carry a mobile and who got lost easily. It wouldn't give anything away. But he couldn't speak the words. Maybe it was better not to know. Maybe he didn't deserve to know.
"Here you go." A printer on the neighbouring desk spat out a piece of paper. "Directions to Holborn." She picked it up and handed it to the Doctor.
He took it from her but didn't look down at it. He looked straight at her instead. Now was his chance to say what he had come here to say.
"Thank you, for everything."
Donna Temple-Noble just stared at him, clearly baffled by the weight of his gratitude. He had made it sound like she had saved his life.
Oh, but she had, so many times over. He wore this face because of her. Donna was the one who had urged him to save Caecilius. She was the one who had reminded him that there was still hope in every tragedy, that it was worth it to save a life.
He would never forget that, ever again.
"Um, you're welcome." It seemed this was one of those rare times where Donna didn't know what to say. "I hope you don't lose your way again."
"I won't." He found a smile for her and it was a smile for a best friend.
The Doctor didn't look back when he left the office, but there was a lightness to his step that hadn't been there earlier. Even if Donna couldn't remember him, he would always carry a reminder of her.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,179
Characters: Twelve, Donna
Timeline: Set post-"The Girl Who Died"; no spoilers
Summary: The Doctor finds the courage to check up on an old friend.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns all.
A/N: Entry for
who_contest's "Hindsight" challenge.His hearts were pounding.
The Doctor was used to an elevated heartrate, it was a common side effect of running for your life, but he wasn't running away from anything dangerous today. No, today, he was headed towards something of a different variety.
His destination was across the street. All he needed to do was to cross the road to reach it. One foot in front of the other. Bi-pedal motion. Easy. Simple. So why couldn't he move his feet?
You're nervous, the Doctor told himself. You're two thousand years old and you're nervous.
He much preferred fleeing from an alien threat.
The traffic cleared, presenting him with an opportunity to safely cross the road. He could turn back. It was a valid option. No one had forced him to come here. He could return to the TARDIS and fly off and it wouldn't do any harm to the universe.
But he would always know that he came all the way here with good intentions and he had been too anxious to cross the street.
The Doctor stepped off the curb.
Had he been more focused on his surroundings, he would have spotted the cab coming towards him, but he didn't, and the vehicle had to swerve around him to avoid hitting him. The driver drove off, honking the horn madly. The Doctor barely noticed.
The office was plain on the outside, or so he assumed; he didn't have much experience with offices. There was no logo stenciled on the window or a notice detailing the arbitrary hours of the humans inside. The only indication that there was a business in the space was a 8.5 by 11 printed sign taped to the front of the door.
A Charitable Earth.
The logo of the company consisted of the letters A, C, and E in red over a stylized drawing of the Earth. A.C.E., mused the Doctor as he opened the door. That seemed so familiar.
The office was less bare inside. Six desks were arranged in two rows facing the window. Half were set up with computers while the other half had boxes or stacks of paper piled on top. A tall fern sat in the far corner, the only splash of green in the painted white room. Framed photos leaned against the walls, waiting to be hung.
Only one person was present amongst the disorganization. She was digging around one of the boxes, searching through the contents for something. With her back turned to the Doctor, she didn't see him enter.
His heartrate increased, making it seem like he had a hummingbird trapped inside his ribcage. He took a deep breath, but it did nothing to ease how awkward he felt. Calm. He had to be calm. She couldn't realize who he was.
"Hello." His voice was steady when he spoke, but he had a lot of practice at sounding more confident than he felt.
The woman stopped her rummaging and she turned to look at him. For just a split second, she had a smile on her face, but when she realized that she didn't know him, her expression turned neutral. "Can I help you?" Her words had a slight edge to them, like she was fighting to sound polite rather than annoyed.
The Doctor nearly replied with, "You already have", but he stopped himself. Of course, this left a void in his mind and he scrambled to come up with another response. While his mind worked to string the appropriate words together, he couldn't help but stare at her.
The last time he saw her, it had been at a wedding, her wedding in fact. It had been a few years since then, assuming he had landed the TARDIS in the correct year, but she hadn't changed at all. She was still as fierce and bright and extraordinary as he remembered.
"Um, hello? Are you all right?" A slight frown pulled at the corners of her mouth.
"I'm lost," said the Doctor, having decided that it was the least suspicious reply. "Do you know where Holborn tube station is?"
She shoved the box aside. "Is GPS on your mobile not working?"
"I don't have a mobile."
"Oh." Her expression softened. If all she saw was a lost old man, then that was fine with the Doctor. It actually wasn't that far from the truth. "So you just picked a building at random, hoping someone would help you?"
He detected a hint of amusement in her voice, but it wasn't the same level of friendliness that used to exist between them. "Yours looked the least threatening."
"Thanks for the compliment, I think." She moved over to one of the desks that had a computer. "I'll print you some directions from Google Maps."
The Doctor drifted over, trying to look like he was idly wandering about the office. When he rounded around her desk, he took a quick glance of the contents laid out on the surface. It was mostly paperwork for the charity and office supplies, but there were two framed photos. "Husband?" he asked, gesturing to one photo of a middle aged man with brown hair and dark skin.
"Yeah. Shaun."
The other photo featured the woman, her husband, an older woman with light blonde hair, and an old man with white hair and a white beard. They all smiled for the camera. They looked happy.
Are you happy? the Doctor wanted to ask. It wasn't an odd question. He could be a nosy old man who didn't carry a mobile and who got lost easily. It wouldn't give anything away. But he couldn't speak the words. Maybe it was better not to know. Maybe he didn't deserve to know.
"Here you go." A printer on the neighbouring desk spat out a piece of paper. "Directions to Holborn." She picked it up and handed it to the Doctor.
He took it from her but didn't look down at it. He looked straight at her instead. Now was his chance to say what he had come here to say.
"Thank you, for everything."
Donna Temple-Noble just stared at him, clearly baffled by the weight of his gratitude. He had made it sound like she had saved his life.
Oh, but she had, so many times over. He wore this face because of her. Donna was the one who had urged him to save Caecilius. She was the one who had reminded him that there was still hope in every tragedy, that it was worth it to save a life.
He would never forget that, ever again.
"Um, you're welcome." It seemed this was one of those rare times where Donna didn't know what to say. "I hope you don't lose your way again."
"I won't." He found a smile for her and it was a smile for a best friend.
The Doctor didn't look back when he left the office, but there was a lightness to his step that hadn't been there earlier. Even if Donna couldn't remember him, he would always carry a reminder of her.
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no subject
Date: 2016-03-29 03:10 pm (UTC)*After Hours of thinking*
There is no excuse Davies that I can think of, other than this great fic, why Donna had to lose her memories.
Anyway, great job with this!
no subject
Date: 2016-03-30 03:00 am (UTC)There is no excuse Davies that I can think of, other than this great fic, why Donna had to lose her memories.
I always think of it this way: even if Donna can't remember, she's still awesome and no one can take that from her.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-14 01:33 pm (UTC)Ahhh, thank you, thank you...
*HUGS*
no subject
Date: 2016-04-16 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-23 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 03:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-26 04:28 am (UTC)I haven't watched the latest season, but it's neat to know they brought up the actor's former Who role. But how to explain the resemblance to TW: Children of Earth guy, lol?
no subject
Date: 2016-04-26 06:16 pm (UTC)I haven't watched the latest season, but it's neat to know they brought up the actor's former Who role. But how to explain the resemblance to TW: Children of Earth guy, lol?
Since the Doctor never met John Frobisher, I don't think the show is in any rush to explain the resemblance. I think Moffat or RTD have said that Frobisher is a descendent of Caecilius and that Time has been trying to end that family line since Caecilius was meant to die in Pompeii, but that's just one take on it.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-27 03:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-27 07:23 pm (UTC)