Hi, could you do 44 for ten and Donna? :3
send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble
It had started as a calm enough night. A very surprisingly domestic and calm night, but given that she had twisted her ankle on their last adventure, he had agreed to her terms. A relaxing night in, preferably with some human company that would be kind to her fragile state. It was with a mumbled, “Drama queen,” that he had set the coordinates for Martha’s home.
At some point, without the Doctor’s knowledge, the two had become good friends. This became glaringly obvious to him once he opened the TARDIS door and Martha was there in a heartbeat to help Donna to the couch. He had sputtered out that it really wasn’t that serious, only to be hushed by an angry Martha and given the smuggest smile by Donna.
Kind to her fragile state. He scoffed at that, grumbling to himself as he sat on the couch.
The night had gone amazing, if you asked Donna. If you asked the Doctor, his fidgety fingers and sporadic huffs would say otherwise. Martha was simply ignoring the Doctor’s temper tantrum, stating that he had to be patient with Donna. “After all, the older humans get, the longer it takes to heal.”
(That had gotten a swift pillow to the head for the poor girl, and loud laughter from the Doctor. He’d long learned to not touch age with Donna.)
Now they found themselves tensely gripping Wii remotes, equal looks of concentration on their faces. Martha was on the edge of her seat, recliner chair constantly rocking as she absently mimicked her characters movements. The Doctor was sitting straight, seemingly relaxed save for the narrowing of his eyes to try to focus on the game. Donna meanwhile, had her legs on his lap with her back supported by pillows, her mouth a firm line when it wasn’t muttering threats towards her companions.
A small cry of defeat came from Martha, her character having been kicked off the fighting stage and effectively taking her out of the game. It came down to the Doctor and Donna, down to their last lives and ridiculously high in damage percentage.
“If you die,” the Doctor swallowed a squeak, surprised that Donna had been able to sit up enough to mutter the threat in his ear, “I’m gonna kill you.”
“But that’s pointless! We’re on the same team!”
“Shut up and keep your eyes on the game! Link is about to beat your stupid Kirby!”
“I could swallow him and effectively stop from getting damage for 15 seconds; Kirby is a wonderful fighting choice.” He sniffed, shoulders hunching as returned his full attention to the game. “You don’t even know how to control Zelda.”
“I know perfectly well!” Her voice is a shriek, her thumbs smashing the buttons with increasingly more force. “You are this close to getting kicked, Spaceman!”
“No I’m not! See, I just beat him, and now I’ll go help you.”
“Swear to God, you get in my way and I’ll slap the gel off your hair.”
In the end, Kirby interfered, made the game glitch, sent Zelda flying off the screen, and their team lost. It was a domestic night, but as Donna tried in vain to suffocate him with a pillow and Martha’s laugh echoed around him, the Doctor found he didn’t quite mind it so much in the end.
