Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, especially the Doctor – He just pops in for tea sometimes.

A/N: This is my first multi-chapter story (gasp!). I hope to have the succeeding chapters up soon.

Another Closing Time

Chapter 1

So gather up your jackets, move it to the exits. I hope you have found a friend.

Closing time: Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

("Closing Time" – Semisonic)

It didn't look like much from the outside. Just a wooden door and a simple sign: a painted cherub, its hands folded in prayer, a hint of tears on its chubby cheeks. It didn't get much custom, being on a back side street in a less than populous section of London. But the food was surprisingly good and the variety of spirits remarkable.

The Doctor approached the door, the collar of his leather jacket pulled up against the light rain that had begun to fall. It gave him a perverse pleasure to frequent an establishment that called itself "The Weeping Angel". If they only knew, he thought. Better yet, I hope they never know.

He pushed open the door and walked inside. It was a small place, just five stools at the bar, a couple of booths, and a pool table. He had discovered it not soon after his regeneration on his first trip back to Earth. He'd been there enough times for the barman to know him on sight. Mostly, he came for the company, a few locals in for a pint or two before going home.

Tonight was different.

As he shook the rain off his jacket, he walked over to the bar. "Hey, Donny," he said to the barman.

Donny turned, still wiping the glass in his hand. "Hiya, John," he said cheerfully, a light Irish brogue lilting his speech. "Haven't seen ya in a while."

The Doctor draped his jacket over a nearby stool and said, "Been travelin'. Just got back into town."

"Will ya be wantin' your usual, then? We just got a delivery of fresh bananas this morning."

The Doctor shook his head. "Glenfidditch 30. Three fingers," he replied.

Donny whistled. "Bad day?" he asked, as he reached for the bottle and a glass. Setting them down on the bar in front of the Doctor, he poured a generous amount of the amber liquid.

"You could say that," the Doctor replied. "Slainte." He took a sip and leaned back against the bar. Donny had known "John Smith" long enough to know this was one of those times he didn't want conversation, so he returned to his cleaning and restocking.

The Doctor stood there, gazing at nothing in particular. It had been a bad day. He had started out that morning heading for the Horsehead Nebula to take a sample of the hydrogen content of the cloud for the TARDIS's databanks.

She had a different idea.

Landing him instead in the centre of London, he discovered that a pair of Mustelaxians had infiltrated a children's centre and were acting as advance scouts. These creatures looked remarkably like ferrets on Earth, and would entice small children away from their homes or groups, stealing them away. Until a certain age, the young of several mammalian species from a number of planets produce an enzyme that the Mustelaxi used to create psychotropic compounds that they marketed (illegally) throughout the galaxy. After reaching maturity, when the captives no longer produce the enzyme, they are sold to slavers.

The Doctor abhorred abuse of any kind, but abuse of children drove him to a special kind of rage. He caught up with the scouts before they could do much damage. He disabled the homing mechanism on their ship and re-sequenced their navigation system. Then he told them, in no uncertain terms, that Earth was off limits, and if they or any others of their kind were to ever return, they would have to contend with him. He also warned them that he would be reporting their activities to the Shadow Proclamation and, if they were smart, they would take themselves to a galaxy far, far away.

He sighed and took another sip of his drink. It was days like this that he was thankful that the stupid apes were oblivious to the dangers around them. It made his life a little easier. He could come in, make things right, and then get out without any complications. He preferred it that way. The less they knew, the easier it was to escape unnoticed.

He continued to stand at the bar, sipping and thinking. Suddenly, the door to the pub flew open and a woman fairly stumbled in. It was obvious from the sound of the wind and the amount of water that accompanied her that the earlier light rain had turned into a proper gale.

The woman was drenched, her hair clinging to her face as rivulets ran down her neck and back. The Doctor quickly put down his drink and motioned to Donny to hand him a clean bar towel. Walking over to the woman, he handed it to her and said, "Here."

She looked up at him, a glare on her face, which softened a bit when she realized what he was offering her. "Thanks," she said, blotting her hair. He helped her out of her out of her sodden coat and draped it over the stool closest to the pub's heater.

"Can I get you somethin'? Coffee? Tea?" Donny had come over with another towel.

The woman glanced at the Doctor and replied, "I'll have what he's having."

Surprised, the Doctor said, "You don't even know what I'm drinking."

She smirked at him and said, "Well, Sunshine. You don't look like the daiquiri type." Looking him up and down, she continued, "Let's see. Leather jacket. Boots. I'd say, oh, 25 year old single malt."

The Doctor smiled at her, impressed. "30, actually. Donny," he turned and said to the barman. "Two more here." Returning to the woman, he put out his hand and said, "John Smith."

She looked up at him and said, "Really? John Smith?"

"What? Would it make a difference if I said I spelled it with a 'y' and an 'e' ?" He grinned.

"It might," she replied, smiling a bit. Taking his hand, she shook it and said, "Donna. Donna Noble."

"So, Donna Noble," the Doctor said. "What brings you to out on a night like this to an out-of-the-way place like this?" He handed her the glass of Scotch Donny had supplied.

She took a small sip and sighed. "To be honest, I got lost. I'd been at a job interview and was looking for the right Tube station. Then the rain started and I got turned around. It was raining harder and, well, I just thought this looked as good a place as any to get out of the wet." She good another, longer, drink and said, "It's just a bad end to a bad day in a bad week."

The Doctor sipped his drink and asked, "Care to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

"With those ears, you oughta be," she retorted.

"Oi!" he snapped. "No need ta get snarky here! Just like a ginger, eh?"

"Oi, yourself!" she shot back. "Now who's getting snarky?"

They grinned at one another, both enjoying the banter. "So," he began, "Didja get the job?"

Donna drank a little more and sighed deeply. "I don't know why I expected things to be any different this time. It seems like, the last few months, it's been one disaster after another."

"How so?" he asked. She looked at him closely, trying to decide what exactly to tell him. "It can't be that bad," he continued.

She shook her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me. I've been around a bit. Seen my share of trouble."

To give herself a little more time to make up her mind, she walked over to the pool table and picked up a cue. Turning back, she asked, "Do you play?"

The Doctor smiled and said, "I've been known to."

"Care for a game? From the sound of things outside, it looks like we're gonna be stuck here a while."

Downing the remainder of his drink, he walked over and took the cue Donna held in her outstretched hand. "Want another one?" he asked.

"Why not?" she replied, putting her empty glass on the bar. "So. What do you do, John Smith-with-a-y?"

The Doctor was intrigued by the fiery woman. Bringing over the re-filled glasses, he placed hers on the edge of the table. Taking a sip, he narrowed his eyes and said, "Troubleshooter."

"Oh, that's fairly vague. Meaning?" Donna asked.

"Well," he replied slowly. "I travel about, checkin' up on places. Spottin' problems and helpin' to get things back on track."

"Sounds exciting, " she said, as he racked up the pool balls.

"Can be. Sometimes too excitin'. Toss for the break?"

"Sure." He pulled out a coin and flipped it in the air. Donna reached in suddenly and caught it, putting it on the back of her hand and covering it.

"Call it," she said with a grin.

"Heads," the Doctor replied.

Donna lifted her hand and stared, startled. Picking up the bit of metal, she cried, "Just what the hell is this? Think you can cheat me with a phony shilling, Dumbo?"

"Again with the ears!" he snapped back. "Here. Give it over. Let me see that." The Doctor plucked the coin from her fingers and looked at it. It was a commemorative coin from the coronation of the 207th King of Aldebaran IX. Looking a little sheepish, he quickly put it in his pocket and said, "Sorry. That's just somethin' I picked up on my travels." Handing Donna her cue, he said, "Why don't you just take the break."

Donna stood and considered the man before her, with his open, angular face and working-class manner, and realized that she was starting to like him. Quite a lot, actually. Smiling back at him, she took the cue and walked over to the table. Bending down, she pulled her arm back and sent the cue ball smartly into the triangle of balls, scattering them across the felt.

"Watch and learn," she called out, and moved to the left side of the table to line up her first shot.

Sipping his drink, the Doctor leaned against the bar and watched as the ginger woman sent the first ball neatly in to the corner pocket. She quickly dispatched the next six balls with ease. He smiled to himself. 'This day wasn't turnin' out half bad after all,' he thought to himself.

"I think I've been had," he chuckled. "You, my dear, are a hustler."

She laughed. "Not really. I used to play all the time with my Dad. He and Gramps and I would pop down to the pub to get away from my Mum for a while, when she was on one of her tirades. Got a lot of practise." She looked away from him, her eyes clouding with an emotion she didn't want him to see. She turned back to the table.

The Doctor noticed her discomfort and decided to act as if nothing had happened. "So, Donna Noble," he began, as she looked over the alignment of her next shot. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" she asked absently, moving this way and that at the table.

"Whatever it was you thought I wouldn't believe."

Donna stopped in mid-stroke. Turning her head, she stared at him, puzzled. "Are you always this nosy?" she asked, taking a few practice strokes to get a feel for the shot.

"Most times, yeah. Besides," he grinned. "A good Scotch, a game of pool and a girl with a mystery. How could I resist?"

Setting her cue down on the felt, she walked over and stood right in front of him. She looked him straight in the eye. And was amazed and a little startled at what she saw. Staring into the depths of those icy blue eyes, she found compassion, safety and….familiarity! Something inside her mind recognized him, knew him, but he was a stranger. She stumbled back, shocked.

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he didn't want to scare this woman off. "Donna? Are you okay?"

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head to clear it and said, "Yeah. Sorry. Where were we?"

He grinned and said, "I think you were about to tell me your life's story."

"You're really not going to let it go, are you?"

"Nope," he replied. "I'm really not."

"Okay. But you have to promise you won't laugh or tell me I'm crazy."

"Cross my heart," he said, demonstrating exactly that.

She picked up her glass and took a deep swig. Settling herself on one of the barstools, she leaned back and sighed. "Okay, then. You asked for it. Well. In the last four months, I've gotten engaged," she began, ticking each item off on her fingers. "Missed my wedding. Lost my fiancé. Lost my job." She stopped and blinked suddenly. "Lost my Dad."

The Doctor immediately, and without conscious thought, put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her. "I'm so sorry, Donna."

She held onto him for a moment, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his jumper. Again, she had that slight shiver of recognition, but brushed it away and stepped back. Looking up at him, she said, softly, "Thanks."

"Any time." Handing Donna her glass, he raised his eyebrows and said, "Go on. Tell me about the wedding."

After taking a sip, she began, "Okay. So, here's the part you're not going to believe."

He grinned at her. "Quit stalling."

She sat up a little straighter and shook her head. "Alright then. So. I was working at this temp job when I met Lance. We dated, and six months later, got engaged. Last year, Christmas Eve, we had this big, beautiful wedding planned. Everyone was there. I was walking down the aisle, hanging on to my Dad's arm, happy as you please. I was halfway there, that close, when, suddenly, (she paused for effect) I started to glow and then POOF!"

"Poof?"

"Yeah, poof! I was transported."

"Transported?"

"Oi! Are you gonna repeat everything I say, or are you gonna let me tell it?" she barked at him.

The Doctor put his hands up. "Sorry. Go right ahead." He took a drink and leaned back.

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," she continued with a wink. "I was transported. To this space ship. There was this tall, skinny alien bloke in a pinstripe suit, of all things. And he started peering and scanning and bleeping me, until I smacked him a good one." (The Doctor grinned to himself at that image – he could well imagine Donna smacking around an alien like it was nothing!) "I made him take me back to my wedding and, when we got there, we found out that they had started the reception without me! They had my reception without me! But, before we could get too far into the party, the Robot Santa scavengers came, tore up the place with exploding decorations, and kidnapped me! The alien chased them down and saved me." She stood up and started to pace.

"Long story short, the alien bloke figured out that Lance, my good-for-nothing fiancé, had been dosing me for six months with these particles!" (He started to repeat the word but, at a glare from Donna, quickly thought better of it.) "Turns out, Lance had made a deal with this alien spider-woman thing. She needed me and my particles to hatch her babies that she had hibernating at the centre of the Earth. Once they hatched, she was going to let them loose on the world to eat to their heart's content. I was to be the appetizer! Had to settle for Lance, in the end."

She took another long drink and continued. "Well, Alien Boy saved me again and destroyed the spider babies by opening up the Thames Flood Barrier and drowning them. The Spider-Woman-Thing went back to her ship and was blown up. So we saved the world, but I lost my job and husband. Alien Boy even made it snow. I think he was trying to cheer me up. He asked me to go travelling with him, but I turned him down."

She stopped pacing and looked at the Doctor. "The balmy thing is, I've regretted that decision from the moment he left. But you know what? I'm going to find him," she said determinedly. "I'm gonna find the Doctor again and, when I do, I'm gonna beg him to take me with him!"

The Doctor's hearts skipped a beat. "What did you call him?" he asked slowly.

"The Doctor. Well, that's what he called himself, the little alien git. How pretentious is that!"

"Sounds a bit full of himself, that one," he said. "Donna, I believe you. And I'm sorry about your job and your fiancé. But you know. They say…"

Donna interrupted him and threatened, "If you tell me, 'When one door closes, another one opens'" she snarled, in a perfect imitation of her mother, "I will smack you right into next Tuesday!"

He laughed out loud at that. "I'm sure you would! No, what I was going to say was this: 'Every new beginning is just some other beginning's end. Your 'beginning' with Lance ended, so here's to new beginnings." He picked up his glass and held it up in a toast to her.

Donna took up her glass. "I like that. New beginnings."

They touched glasses and tossed back the last of their drinks. Putting his empty glass on the bar, the Doctor stood up straight and said, "Sounds like the rain has stopped, and Donny here's just too polite to throw us the hell out, so I think maybe it's time we go." He tossed some notes onto the bar, more than enough to cover their bill.

He picked up Donna's now-dry coat and helped her into it. Donna smiled at him and said, "Thanks. You're probably right. Mum'll have more than a few choice word for me, coming home so late, and with alcohol on my breath." She laughed. "I'll just tell her I met a man. That'll shut her up good and proper. Not half a lie, either."

They waved goodbye to the barman and stepped outside into the crisp early morning air. The Doctor led her up the street to a more populous part of town. "Come on. Let's find you a cab. My treat."

"You don't have to do that, John. I am perfectly capable of taking the Tube home!" she protested.

"What kind of a brute do you think I am, Donna? A gentleman sees a lady home. Or at least pays for her cab!"

Donna put her arm through his and said, "You are a right fine bloke, you are. Why couldn't I have met you sooner?" The Doctor pulled her arm against him tightly in response.

They walked a ways and, spotting a cab, the Doctor put his fingers to his lips and whistled. The vehicle pulled up beside them. He opened the door and turned to Donna, to help her in. Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek and said, "Thank you for listening and not making me feel like a fool."

He smiled. "When you've been around as long as I 'ave, nothin' surprises ya. Now, go on. Get yourself home."

"I'm so glad I met you, John Smith-with-a-y.

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Donna Noble."

Donna had just settled in the cab, when he bent down and stuck his head inside. She looked at him expectantly. "Donna," he said quietly. "Do it. Find your Doctor. And if he gives you any grief, you tell 'im that John Smith said to stop bein' a stupid prat!"

She laughed. "I will. I'll tell him exactly that!" She reached out and squeezed his hand. "I hope I see you again sometime, John."

He squeezed back. "I'm sure you will. I am absolutely certain of it. Have a fantastic life, Donna." He handed the cabbie a stack of notes and the cab pulled away, Donna waving from the window.

The Doctor just stared at the disappearing cab. Donna's story swirled in his mind. He knew what it meant. He, in a future incarnation, will meet and save Donna Noble. He also knew that he would have to erase the memory of this night, and the thought of not remembering the feisty ginger saddened him. But he realized it was necessary, since his future self had no recollection of meeting her before. He envied the man, and he hoped he was smart enough to take this amazing woman with him. He hoped he would show her the stars.

He made a mental note to be much more careful in the future about the possibility of crossing his own timeline. It could have devastating effects on the fabric of time and space. He walked down the empty streets to the back alley where the TARDIS was parked. Opening the door, he strode to the console and sent the ship into the Vortex. Then he walked down the hall to his room.

He hung up his leather jacket and pulled off his boots, preparing to have the TARDIS adjust his memories. He sat on the edge of the bed, not quite ready to give up the image of Donna just yet. Staring out at nothing, he took a deep breath and said quietly out loud, "Goodbye, Donna. I really hate doin' this. Please. Please find me again! I've got a feeling that I'm gonna to need your fire in my life."

The Doctor sighed and lay down in his back. Closing his eyes, he said to his ship, "Alright, old girl. Do what ya gotta do. But be gentle."

The TARDIS joined his mind and began to sing softly, taking the memory of Donna and the bar and moving them behind a sturdy barrier and creating an alternate memory to fill the void. He had asked her to remove them but she chose to hide them, suspecting that, at some point in the future, he may just want to retrieve them. She sang to him until he fell into a deep, restorative sleep.