Chapter Text
When Donna first stepped into her room on the TARDIS, she’d been impressed by the plushness, the sumptuousness of it all. A richly tiled bathroom, a dresser with a floor-length wall mirror beside, a bed that went on for acres. A window with a little nook to read, and a fireplace in the far wall. A desk and bedside table and so much else besides.
One thing that stuck out amid all the rich cherry wood, though, was a small pink post-it note stuck to the mirror.
Door closed, Donna had pulled it off and taken a closer look, expecting some important postscript from the Doctor.
It wasn’t.
Hey Donna,
If the Doc ever gets his head stuck someplace and you can’t get him out, give me a call.
-Jack.
PS: I do NOT mean stuck up his ass, that’s your job to fix.
PPS: Don’t tell the Doctor about this note. He'll freak out.
Beneath that was a phone number with twenty fucking digits.
Donna had stuck the post-it back on her mirror. Something about it felt important, somehow.
She left the note where it was, and learned to ignore it. Maybe someday it would mean something.
She never told the Doctor.
And she never got rid of the note.