Work Text:
The Doctor closes the TARDIS door behind him and makes his way across the backyard towards the house, with the intention of getting a cup of tea. Not that he couldn’t make one in the TARDIS, of course, but the Noble kitchen may well be closer, depending on how the TARDIS has decided to arrange the interior today. And it’s nice, anyway, to remember that he has a more fixed address than a spaceship now, when he wants it.
It’s past eleven and he expects the house to be dark, but there’s a light on in the kitchen, illuminating Donna at the table. She’s got her laptop in front of her and a stack of books to the side, and she only briefly glances up at him as he unlocks the back door before returning to whatever she’s working on.
“You’re up late,” he says conversationally as he heads towards the sink. “Not that I’m one to talk, obviously,” he continues as he fills up the kettle. “You can get a lot done at night, when there are fewer people around to bother you. I’ve been making excellent progress on increasing the sensitivity of the TARDIS scanners and you are being unusually quiet,” he realises as he switches on the kettle, and turns to face her.
“New job, you know how it is,” she offers with a wan smile. “Although maybe you don’t, being you. Lots to catch up on, is my point.”
But the Doctor’s taking a closer look at the books piled next to her laptop. “Fundamentals of Quantum Physics? Modern Software Engineering? International Journal of Astrobiology?” he reads off the spines. “What on Earth does UNIT have you working on?”
“What makes you think it’s anything on Earth?”
In other circumstances he’d appreciate the joke, but he’s too distracted. “No but seriously, what are you working on?”
“Nothing, really,” Donna insists. “I’m just doing some background research. Don’t want to go around UNIT asking a bunch of dumb questions, right?” She tries for a grin, like she’s joking, but he knows Donna, and knows she means it more than she’s likely to admit.
It makes sense, now, why she’s up late with nothing but textbooks for company, and why she’s seemed preoccupied since she started working for UNIT. How had he not made the connection sooner?
Sure, he’s had plenty of his own distractions of late. But that’s no excuse.
He hears the water boil and turns back around to the kettle, grateful that the task of finding mugs and tea bags gives him cover while he figures out what to say.
A minute later he sits down across from Donna with two mugs of tea. “I’ve always found you to ask rather good questions, actually,” he says as he pushes one of the mugs over to her.
“Thanks,” she says as she takes it, “but you know what I mean. They’re all genius scientists, and I’m just a temp who flunked half her A-levels.”
“No you’re not,” the Doctor contradicts. “Most important woman in the whole universe, remember?”
She shrugs, unconvinced. “Doesn’t mean I understand any of this,” she says, gesturing towards the books.
“UNIT didn’t hire you to be an expert in quantum mechanics or software engineering,” the Doctor reminds her.
“I suppose not,” she sighs, and blows on her tea. “That still leaves the question of why they did hire me.”
“Because you’re brilliant,” he says as he has so many times before. “No, Donna, you are,” he insists before she can argue. “You understood why the Ood had to be peaceful. You realised that the workers in the ATMOS factory weren’t taking any sick days. You figured out that the numbers on Messaline were dates, and stopped a war because of it!”
“I did, didn’t I,” she agrees quietly.
“You made the connection between Pyrovillia and Adipose Three going missing with the Daleks stealing Earth,” he continues. “You were the one who stopped and wondered why the Not-Things were trying to scare us. You saw that the brainwave the Toymaker induced was based on musical notes.”
He tries to catch her eye, but she’s looking down at the table, her bangs curtaining her face. “UNIT wants you because you’re brilliant,” he reiterates. “And brave, and kind, and determined. All the same reasons I asked you to travel with me. I only take the best.”
She ducks her head to take a sip of her tea and then swipes at her eyes, too fast for the Doctor to tell if it’s from tiredness or emotion. “Can’t argue with that,” she says, finally meeting his gaze, though she quickly glances back down at the textbooks. “Guess I went a bit overboard with all of this.”
“If you want to learn any of that there’s no reason you can’t. But maybe not at half past eleven at night?” he suggests.
“Telling me it’s past my bedtime, really?” she says as she closes her laptop, and he can’t help but smile at the return of her usual humour. “Thought I was supposed to be looking after you.”
“Only trying to return the favour,” he replies as Donna stands. She takes a last drink of tea and puts the empty mug in the dishwasher. The Doctor stands too, intending to head back to the TARDIS, but Donna catches him in a tight hug.
“Thank you,” she says into his shoulder.
It still astounds him, sometimes, that he’s here. That after all these years he got Donna back, gets to have tea with her and tell her she’s brilliant and hug her back. That he gets to keep her, this time.
He strokes her hair a little, and wonders how he got so lucky.
“I think that’s my line,” he tells her as she pulls away.
She gives his arm a final squeeze in acknowledgement. “Goodnight, Doctor.”
“Goodnight, Donna,” he returns, and she heads for the stairs.
Only when he can no longer hear her footsteps does he head back outside to the TARDIS.
