Warning: Contains a skimpy costume and one mild swear word.

Prompt: Handcuffs, weird costume and a break out. Prompt request by louiecat68.

Summary: Donna and the Doctor get locked up again.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story, not Uncle Bob, and especially not Doctor Who.

As her Uncle Bob would say, "Would you Adam and Eve it!" Yep, he'd gone and done it proper this time. Got them in some crumby jail tied together like broken trees and, of all things, wearing THIS outfit. Yeah, Donna was well pee-d off with the whole shebang. Who would have thought they'd still like this sort of thing in the 32nd century; it was outmoded when Donna was a kid. Not that she was saying she was old, no, far from it! But even so, this was enough to make a grown woman cry. A grown woman that wasn't Donna Noble, by the way, no Sir! She intended to show them that she was made of better stuff. She huffed as she thought this last bit. That was all she was prepared to show them.

"Donna? Are you alright?" the Doctor asked, having to bend slightly backwards from his sitting position to get a better look at her expression.

"Yeah! Fine! Why wouldn't I be?" she huffed again. "Perhaps a little less twine around the wrist would have been nice, but otherwise I'm fan'dabi'dozi!"

"And obviously Wee Jimmy Krankie too!" the Doctor chuckled. "Ow, come on! Crack a smile."

"You've got more to smile about than me, Sunshine," Donna griped. "You don't have to wear this stupid costume."

"For the record, I think you look very nice," he tried to placate her.

"Pity it isn't nice and warm! I'm freezing my butt off here!" she shivered, and tried to rub her legs again with her free hand to bring some warmth into her body.

"Why didn't you say earlier? I'd have tried to warm you up." He made a vain attempt to shift slightly nearer to her.

"That's what I was worried you'd say." Donna made no attempt to help him, or herself come to think of it.

"Oi! We're not all perverts you know!" he pouted.

"Sorry, Spaceman, but I can't think straight right now. Just ignore me." Donna dropped her head and smiled wryly to herself.

"Come on, let me try and warm you up. I can't have you freezing, can I?" he managed to move himself around behind her, their wrists still entwined by some carbon-polymer cord that caused mutual pain, so that he could cuddle her by covering her body with an enforced hug. "Is that better?"

"Yes. Much better thanks," she whispered, since his head was virtually next to hers.

"Don't worry. As soon as there is enough light to see properly I'll find a way to get us out of here," he assured her in low tones. He hugged her body gently, and tried to drift off to sleep for an hour or so.

It hadn't seemed too bad a place when they landed earlier. Too much pink everywhere, but other than that it had seemed normal. Trouble is, it all turned out normal in the 'we want to arrest you' sort of way. They contravened some by-law that existed on feast days by arriving at a place of habitat without proffering gifts of food and wine. A contravention they could easily have overcome if allowed to, but no, Captain Stick-in-the-mud, as Donna had dubbed him, had to follow the letter of the law and take them to the punishment centre. That meant being strip-searched; what were they looking for if they obviously didn't have any food or wine with them?

The local magistrate had ordered them to take the festivities seriously by becoming part of the entertainment. This meant that their clothes had been taken away and they had been forced to dress in the costumes they now sat in. Oh, and they had to be tied together since the entertainment had tried to escape in the past, and that didn't pertain to the festivity spirit. Yeah, being tied together really helped lighten the mood! Fun, fun, fun!

The Doctor was luckier because he was wearing an Arab sheik-type costume with plenty of layers. It was quite a good look on him. Donna had been given a harem costume in a thin, gauzy material, that barely covered her legs and breasts, and a headdress that clanked about her face. It was not comfortable! Why did she always end up scantily clad? Was there a conspiracy or something? And why did the Doctor never end up as barely covered? Obviously, there was a male-orientated factor in place here.

Donna had been given instructions on how they wanted her to behave during the festivities and she didn't feel like complying. Why should she throw herself at any passing Tom, Dick or Harry? It certainly didn't make her feel like dancing. The onus seemed to be on her to entertain, that's for sure, rather than the Doctor; unless they needed him for another type of entertainment.

Donna looked at him. He hadn't told her what instructions he'd been given, which worried her enormously. Normally he'd have been full of it, ranting about the injustice or whatever. Strange that he'd not said a word. She tried to snuggle back into him and gave his arm a squeeze. "Thanks. I don't say that enough do I?" she whispered against his cheek.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered back. "And I really do like that costume on you."

"You mean you like looking down the front of it," she giggled.

He coughed. "There's more to it's credit than your…" but he couldn't bring himself to be more specific.

"I'll believe you, Spaceman, thousands wouldn't," Donna teased him. She tried not to shake her head since the headdress kept clanging her in the temple. Who thinks up these things? Everywhere they went in the universe there was some idiot dressing people in garb that was unbearable. Idiots who obviously never ever tried on their weird concoctions, that was sure. It was also starting to give her a headache, this thing on her head. "You wouldn't happen to have some…," her voice trailed off as she considered the absurdity of him actually having painkillers on him. "Sorry, bit of wishful thinking then."

"It's no good, you're going to have to tell me anyway," he informed her. "Is that headdress bothering you?"

"You know what, I hardly notice it socking me in the temple everytime I slightly move my head," she dripped sarcasm at him.

"A simple 'yes' would have worked just as well. I only asked." He pouted sulkily at her. He said something else, but in Gallifreyan.

"What's that? 'Cos if it's an insult I shall make sure you suffer something long and lingering," she tried to glare at him, but it wasn't quite as effective sideways, much to his relief.

"I was just wondering how we're going to break out of here." Sensing her disbelief, he stressed, "I was, honest! I really don't want to hang about here any longer than we have to."

"Yeah, 'cos a magic fairy is going to break us out and send in a knight in shining armour on a white horse because…," Donna had began to whine when there was an enormous BANG! The wall to their right crumbled away to reveal a gaping hole where a distasteful brick montage had resided. "Blimey! I should have said that earlier!" gasped Donna.

Seizing the opportunity, the Doctor yelled, "Come on then!" grabbed her around the waist, lifted her, and propelled them through the new opening and out into the outer-city boundary. There were people everywhere, shouting, screaming and generally panicking. Still holding her close to him, the Doctor ran them towards a gateway that led to the outer-lying town.

"I can run for myself, you know! It's a neat trick I learnt when I was a toddler," she shouted at him from her position against his chest.

"Yeah, funnily enough I knew that. This is quicker for the time being!" he shouted back as loud cannon fire blasted continuously back at the prison. He ran them down a cobbled street and then dived behind a market stall next to what smelt like a stable. He squatted with her in his lap up against the stable wall. "We shouldn't have long to wait. We'll hole up here until we see dawn," he whispered, just in case there was anybody near enough to overhear.

"Why? Who's Dawn then? Have I met her?" Donna asked, much to his exasperation. Immediately guessing she had said something stupid, Donna whispered back, "Sorry, forgot for a minute, didn't I? Must be the lack of blood to my brain that's doing it."

"Where's your blood gone then? Out for a spot of breakfast?" he sniggered.

"Ha ha, clever clogs! My blood is trying to keep my extremities warm," she accidentally tried another glare at him. He was keeping well out of her line of sight she noticed. "Do you think we'll find the TARDIS easily?"

"Should do. I feel her, not too far from here, to the east." He sniffed, and then thought better of it as his nostrils were assaulted by animal scents. "Do you want me to help keep you warm again? I've been practising my massage techniques." He risked giving her a squeeze..

She could almost hear the waggle of his eyebrows as she smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Trust you! All talk and no do!" but she leant back against him as before anyway.

He chuckled, "Are you accusing me of merely talking, because I'll have you know that I have delivered on my word plenty of times. In fact, I can think of…" He started to run his spare hand over her side and stomach.

"Oi! Hands! Or hand, in this case," she admonished him, and felt his silent laughter against her shoulder as he suppressed his amusement. "Do you always have to play the tart?"

"No, but it's more fun that way. I was thinking of our cover story when we try to move from here. We'll need to look convincing enough to distract attention." His breath was hot and rapid against her cheek.

"What, you think this weird costume we're got up in won't attract attention? In your dreams, mate!" she scoffed.

"Then we'll have to make it look like some sex fantasy we're acting out," he suggested.

"You what!" she barely stopped herself hooting out loud at this, "Gonna make me dance down the street are you? Are you out of your tiny mind?"

"By no means could my mind be described as tiny!" he blustered. "And for your information, these costumes are… Stop laughing at me!"

"Well, you started it! Sex fantasy indeed! That would be really strange with you," she explained.

"Why would it be strange? I can see us acting out a sex fantasy," he defended himself. "Not that I usually do, I mean, all the time or anything. No. I was just saying… hypothetically speaking, not literally… and why have you gone quiet all of a sudden?"

"Stop it! Please stop it!" she begged quietly. "I can't breathe. You're making me laugh too much." She wiped at her eyes with her free hand. "Good job I know you're asexual or you would have had me worried with that little speech."

"What do you mean asexual?" if she had been able to see his face she would have seen the deep-seated resentment on his face. "I'm as sexual as the next person… okay, not as much as you. Ow!" It hurt when Donna managed to make contact with her free elbow in his ribs.

"Much as I'd like to sit here and discuss your sexuality," and she really didn't, "don't you think it would be wise to start searching for the TARDIS?"

Daylight was coming thick and fast now, and the market was beginning to come alive. People were setting up their wares, and possible customers were appearing. He stood them up, and they both attempted to stretch their sore limbs. "We're still going to have to cover the way we're linked like this," he whispered again. "Do you think you can act as if we're in love, and look up at me adoringly?"

"Do I have to do the adoring bit? Can't you adore me instead?" she laughed softly as he threw her a withering look. "All right, I'll try. Do I have to kiss you too?"

"Only if you want to," he said, hopefully sounding as calm as possible. "I'll do my best not to vomit."

"Thank you so much for that mental image. You really know how to impress a girl." He really was something at times.

"Got to find a girl first. Oof!" he exclaimed as she elbowed him again. "I meant that you're all woman, not that you're too old, you daft…"

"And how was that sentence going to end, pray tell?" she threatened him.

"You daft, insanely gorgeous creature, obviously," he lied. "How else would it end?"

"Probably with you dead in the gutter if you continue to lie to me," she told him.

"Ah, then I won't lie to you. I promise," he sheepishly replied. "Are you ready for your close up Ms De Mille?"

"Certainly am, Mr Spielberg, direct us away," and Donna turned her head to nuzzle into his neck as he half-steered and half-carried her towards the TARDIS, through the gathering market crowd.

They did draw some questioning looks but the natives quickly averted their gaze when they saw what appeared to be an embracing couple. The Doctor's sheik-like headwear managed to cover their non-kiss perfectly. Well, it had started out as a non-kiss, but they felt it was best to make it a proper kiss just in case, using the method actors patented style. And you never knew exactly how much the headwear was covering. By the time they made it through the TARDIS doors, though crashed through would have been a better description, their necks ached with the strain of kissing properly. They broke apart so that the Doctor could extract a pair of scissors from the console tool kit, and he gleefully cut through the twine holding their wrists together.

"Ha!" he exclaimed as he rubbed his left wrist, and eyed her right wrist. "Does that feel better?"

"Much, thanks!" agreed Donna as she rubbed her freed wrist too and flexed her fingers. "Could you help me off with…?" she lifted her hands to the headdress that had been giving her jip.

"Certainly," he inspected the clasp at the back of her head. "Oh, I see how this works," he released her aching head.

"Do you want me to…?" she pointed to his headgear. "Or can you cope?"

He smirked, "That's a leading question! Go on then, take it off for me." He tilted his head forward for her to remove the thing.

They stood there grinning at each, maintaining their close proximity. It suddenly occurred to Donna that they didn't need to stand so close anymore. She chose anger as her way of fending off a strange emotion. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason… though are you prepared to confirm that I do have some sexuality?" he asked, as he tried not to look at her lips.

"Okay. Just a bit. A teeny tiny bit," she said, as she stepped back and made a pinching motion with her thumb and index finger.

"Tiny!" he advanced on her menacingly. "I have never been called tiny by anyone!"

"Don't get so defensive!" Donna tried to quell his rage by placing her hands on his chest. "I wasn't insulting the size of your…," she swept her gaze deliberately down to his converses and back up again, "ego but…"

He made a grab for her and began to tickle her sides mercilessly. "Listen here, Noble, I'll always be able to beat you physically."

"Pity you can't manage it mentally then!" she shot back, but doubled up as he continued his onslaught, moving to her neck. "Geroff! Stop it!"

"You're going down, Noble, and you'll eat your words," he promised.

"Better than eating your cooking!" she shrieked. He momentarily stopped and stared at her audacity, allowing her to scoot away from him. "I dunno, can't take any criticism," she teased him.

"If you weren't so…," he started to say.

"Weren't so what? Tell me, I'm all agog," she smirked, hopping towards him.

"Did you have to take classes for that?" he retorted.

"Nope, I'm naturally talented, me!" she smiled.

"Yeah, your talents are very… natural" he swept his gaze over her this time, taking his time to admire the costume she still wore.

"You cheeky git!" she fumed, leaning in. "And stop looking at my boobs!"

"I was not!" he spluttered. "I merely looked in their general direction."

"And I'm the Pope!" She considered him, carefully. "Oh, for the love of Pete, come 'ere!" and she grabbed him around the neck, kissing him soundly.

His arms crept round her waist. "What was that for?" he weakly asked, when she finished.

"Well, I had to check your asexual claim, didn't I?" she reasoned. She twinkled mischievously at him below her darkened lashes.

"Or you could have just believed me," he sniffed, still holding on to her.

"As if I'd ever take you at your word!" she laughed.

There was no answer to that really, so he kissed her instead.

.

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