Title: No Funny Business

Author: Mindy

Rating: K, like the title says...

Disclaimer: D & D belong to BBC and RTD et al, not me.

Spoilers: minor for "Turn Left"

Summary: Ten/Donna. Late night snuggling in the TARDIS.

-x-

She didn't even have to open her eyes to know he was standing there, silent in his pyjamas. Donna burrowed deeper into her pillow.

"What now?" she grumbled.

"Are you asleep?" he hissed, taking a small step closer to her bedside.

"Yes," she grit, eyes determinedly shut: "Why aren't you?"

She could hear the fabric on his shoulders shrug. He shuffled closer, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"I had a nightmare," he told her in a half-whisper.

Donna snorted faintly: "You must be kidding." She rolled onto her back, cracking her eyelids to look up at him. "Well," she patted his knee perfunctorily: "just think happy thoughts and go back to sleep."

There was a pause. The Doctor didn't move. The TARDIS hummed gently.

"Can I sleep in here with you?" he asked, lifting the corner of her doona.

Donna watched with one eye open as he slipped in beside her. "You're making a bit of a habit of this, spaceman," she remarked, turning back onto her side.

He flashed her a grin in the dim light: "I like this mattress more than mine."

Her head dropped back to the pillow: "I'm too tired to argue."

"That's right," he soothed: "Don't argue, just go back to sleep."

Donna grunted and shut her eyes, tucking her fists up under her chin. After a few minutes though, she couldn't ignore the Doctor's efforts to get comfortable. He was squirming about, kicking at the heavy covers.

"What are you doing?" she croaked.

"It's sweltering under here," he moaned, sitting up to push a layer off them: "Do we really need all this insulation?"

"It's my bed," she huffed.

"It's my TARDIS," he countered.

"Well, if you'd fix the heating--"

"There's nothing wrong with the heating--"

"I get cold, alright?" she snapped. She grabbed the layers of doona and blanket, and hitched them up over herself: "You don't like it, you know what you can do."

Donna clamped her eyes closed and the Doctor went silent and still. She could still feel his eyes on her back though. She turned to peer over her shoulder at him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see the outline of his familiar features. Even in the low light, she would be able to tell if he was truly upset or just having his usual fun.

"Did you really have a nightmare?" she asked gingerly.

"No," he admitted, hunkering down under the warm covers: "Just fancied a bit of a snuggle really."

She sighed: "Too tired to snuggle."

"Snuggling requires no effort," he told her, his voice low but still full of that exasperating energy that never seemed to desist. "And you are my designated snuggl-ee now," the Doctor added, hands yanking and arranging the covers to his satisfaction: "It's in your contract. Read the small print."

"I don't have a contract," she muttered sleepily, waiting for his restless body to settle.

"No," he persisted: "but it goes with the territory and you know it. Why do you think I picked you?" He poked her ribs with one finger and Donna jumped.

"You didn't pick me," she grimaced: "I picked you."

"Either way," he replied, peering over her shoulder at her face: "You're still one of the snuggliest people I know."

Her mouth tugged downwards: "Meaning what exactly?"

"You know," the Doctor continued absently, still fidgeting: "'cause you smell nice and you're all soft and--"

"Okay, stop talking now," she ordered, half turning to him in warning.

"Okay," he complied, becoming instantly still.

Donna felt him let out a breath and lay his head down. She could feel warmth radiating from his chest into her back. Beneath the covers, one arm attempted to steal about her waist, wanting to draw her closer.

"Oi," she protested faintly.

"Well, come here then," he muttered, his voice suddenly sounding as tired as her own.

She slowly turned over to face him, shooting him a look as she moved in close. "No funny business, spaceman."

"Or you'll what?" he murmured amusedly, reaching his arms around the safe territory of her shoulders.

"I'll…you know…" she closed her eyes as she settled against him: "send you to your room."

He smirked to himself in the darkness: "Fair enough."

Lying back, he stared at the ceiling for a few silent minutes, his mind gradually beginning to slow but not stopping altogether. He could feel Donna gradually relaxing, her breath evening out. Lifting a hand, he swept her fringe to one side and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

"Donna?"

"Hmm?"

He looked down at her face. She was barely with him.

"Nothing," he whispered, then a moment later changed his mind. "What do you dream about?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"I used to dream about this," she admitted. "Well, not this exactly," she added, her head shifting against his shoulder. "But…a different life," she went on, her voice dreamy and unguarded: "a better life."

The Doctor rubbed her shoulder slowly: "And now?"

"And now…" she answered simply: "I've got it. Dream come true." Her face tilted up to look at him: "What about you? What do you dream about?"

The Doctor gazed down at her, squeezing her a little tighter: "This," he grinned: "Someone to snuggle with."

She rolled her eyes, then closed them: "How predictable."

"Maybe so," he murmured, releasing a breath and letting his own eyes drift shut.

The TARDIS spluttered quietly then settled. Donna's feet shifted beneath the covers. One fist opened against his chest, laying flat on his breastbone.

"I can feel your hearts beating…" she slurred softly. "That is so weird."

The Doctor put his hand over hers and buried his nose in her hair: "Where do you want to go tomorrow?"

"You mean today?" she pointed out blearily.

"Hm. Today, then. Where shall we go?"

"Doctor…" she murmured, a little lit in her tone despite her drowsiness: "I want to do something with you that I've never done with any man."

"What's that?" he replied with a smile.

Donna sighed blissfully: "Take me shopping."

He planted another kiss in her hair. "Shan Shen Markets it is."

END.