prompt: light

word count: 614

Patience is a Virtue

Donna squinted across the black, grassy plain, darkness obscuring her view of... well, nearly everything. She could barely make out a couple of strange trees, and a lot of grass. But nothing that looked particularly interesting. "What're we doin' here, Doctor? You sure you set the coordinates right?"

"Yep," he replied, popping the 'p', pulling the TARDIS door closed behind him. "Velludria. Ronsphar Galaxy. And if I've calculated correctly, we should be in for a real treat in about... oh, six minutes," he grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels excitedly.

Donna glanced out across the empty field again. "Here," she asked dubiously.

"Yep. Right here."

"...Why, what's going to happen?"

"That would be spoiling the surprise, now, wouldn't it?"

"I s'pose," she sighed, turning her gaze back out over the boring, grassy plain in resignation.

The breeze was a bit chilly, and after a couple of minutes Donna found herself wishing she had worn longer sleeves. "I'm just gonna pop back in, get a jacket," she told the Doctor, turning back toward the TARDIS.

"Aww, no, no! You're going to miss it!" he whined, catching Donna by the shoulder. "Here, you can wear my coat," he said, already halfway out of it.

She snorted. "Like that thing'll fit me. You probably had to get it specially, from some planet with freaky stick aliens as long and thin as you."

"It'll be fine," he insisted, pushing it into her hands.

Reluctantly shrugging into the Doctor's brown overcoat, she discovered it was all right after all. "Thanks," she said gratefully, feeling warmer almost immediately. "So, what am I looking for, exactly?"

"You'll know when you see it."

She was opening her mouth to comment again when he cut her off with, "Patience is a virtue, Donna."

"Yeah, well, 'virtuous' is one thing I ain't ever been accused of bein'."

"So I've noticed."

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not very patient," he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Oh. Yeah." She tossed her head slightly as she looked back up at the sky, studying the bright pinpoints of stars for whatever she was meant to be looking for.

After another minute she was beginning to doubt that he did have the right coordinates, and she turned to tell him so. "Doctor, are you—"

He pointed up at the sky eagerly. "Look, look."

She turned her head and let out a little involuntary gasp, forgetting the rest of her question entirely.

Thin streaks of light were spreading across the horizon, meeting and running into one another like rivers poured against the dark contrast of the night. As more and more of the bands of light flowed together into larger entities, the glow intensified and began to radiate in different shades. Streams of colour wove incandescent trails across the deep black sky, brilliant purples and vibrant hues of green shifting to blues and indigoes and dazzling whites.

She'd seen pictures of the Northern Lights back on Earth, but she'd never seen anything like it so close before.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, emotion rising in her chest.

"It's caused by excess atmospheric nitrogen reacting with the—"

"Shh." She shook her head, asking quietly, "Could you just... not explain it to me? Please?"

The Doctor closed his mouth, nodded once. "Sure."

He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers.

They stood in silence for a long time, watching the shifting patterns dance across the dark sky.

It was Donna who spoke, finally: "Thanks for bringin' me here, Spaceman."

She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, "Thank you for coming here with me, Donna Noble."