Ginger, a doctor who fanfic

Author's Notes: This story takes place somewhere in the early stages of series four. It's somewhat AU in that Donna knows about regeneration…but then again, that may be another story in the making in the near future!

Disclaimer: Of course, the BBC owns Dr. Who.

Donna glowered.

For the past ten minutes, the Doctor had been staring. At the top of her head. Without saying anything. And there was only so long that Donna could go with someone staring at the top of her head without saying anything. No one, not even the Doctor, could get away staring at the top of her head like that. It was a bit creepy, really.

"What. Are. You. Looking at!"

The Doctor jumped, snapping out of his reverie.

"What? Nothing, I'm not looking at anything."

"Oh, yes you are Doctor, don't even TRY and pretend. You've been staring. At the top of my head. For the last ten bleedin' minutes. And I'd really appreciate you telling me why you've been staring at the top of my head-- so help you if there is some strange alien creature nesting in my hair…", Donna froze as the realization hit her. "Oh. My. God. Is there something there? Is there? There's something there isn't there? Get it off! Doctor! Get it off! Right! Now!"

"There's nothing in your hair Donna," the Doctor said quickly at Donna's rising panic.

"Are you sure?" Donna asked slowly, afraid to move in case the strange alien hair nesting creature was, in fact, burrowing in her hair, readying itself to suck her brains out.

"No, no, nothing."

Donna relaxed, running her hands through her hair. Just in case.

"Right…Then why were you staring? Bit rude really. Not to mention annoying. And weird because you've got that gob that never shuts up…"

"Was it? Didn't mean to be, sorry," the Doctor said absentmindedly, not seeming to hear the "annoying" and "weird" and "gob that never shuts up" parts. "I was just wondering. Thinking. Pondering, really--" the Doctor began, putting down his banana milkshake onto the kitchen table.

"Wondering what?" Donna asked somewhat hesitantly, mentally preparing herself for a long, complicated, nonsensical babble regarding an advanced space theory of some sort.

The Doctor furrowed his brow, rested his chin in his hand, and stared intently at Donna.

"How is it, that YOU, Donna Noble, are ginger. And how is that after 900 years, I've never been?"

Donna blinked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ginger! I've never been ginger!" the Doctor exclaimed, bounding out of his chair while gesticulating enthusiastically. "I've been brown. I've been blond. I've been black and even white. Old hair. Young hair. Curly hair. Straight hair. Long hair. Short hair…I've never been bald though--not that I want to be bald--too much shine and I don't think I'd enjoy being so shiny…But ginger! I've always wanted to be ginger!"

Donna stared incredulously.

"You're sure it's just a banana milkshake you were drinking?"

"Yep. A super banana milk shake to be exact. Created the recipe myself after extensive research from several different planets", the Doctor beamed.

"…Are you ill, Doctor?"

"No, no, no. Time Lord, remember?"

"Then…why?"

It was the Doctor's turn to stare incredulously.

"Why? Ohh Donna! There is such amazing history with ginger! Did you know that the ancient Egyptians believed that any person, or creature for that matter, with ginger coloring was associated with the gods? You, Donna Noble, had you lived in ancient Egypt might have been revered like a god because you're ginger. But then again…the rest of them thought that ginger coloring was an omen of doom. You could have ended up burnt at the stake."

"Lovely", Donna commented dryly, "Let's not go back there, shall we?"

"Suppose we shouldn't go back to the Middle Ages of Earth either…they'd all think you're a witch…"

"Oi!"

"…Ginger hair and light eyes and all. Though you know, King Arthur was ginger, good man – I met him once you know – And Queen Elizabeth I – she didn't like me that one, still haven't found out why – , Winston Churchill…Did you know that British legend has it that a ginger haired person will always appear to lead Great Britain in times of great need? That person could be you Donna! You!"

"What? Me? The temp from Chiswick" Donna snorted.

"…Galileo, Shakespeare, Van Gogh, Thomas Jefferson, Christopher Columbus, Lucille Ball – though you know, she wasn't natural ginger – J.K. Rowling! Love J.K Rowling! She's a natural ginger you know – "

"So you want to be ginger because you love J.K. Rowling?" Donna asked, envisioning the Doctor as a rabid fan.

"No! Of course not. I mean, I do love good old J.K., who doesn't?"

Donna raised an eyebrow.

"Ginger's exciting. There's a history behind it, and not just on Earth, I'll have you know…" the Doctor said, getting a far-away look in his eyes. "It's the color of skies on some far away planets, the twin suns, the early grass…" the Doctor trailed off, growing silent.

"Doctor? Are you alright?"

"What? Of course I am!" the Doctor said, cracking a wide grin that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Where was I? Oh yes, ginger! Good color. And I've never been. That's why. Did you know – "

Donna watched him carefully as he rambled on about the all the wonderful qualities of being ginger. There was so much more to the Doctor than he ever let on, she decided. He needed someone. A friend. A good mate. And she swore to herself then and there, that she would do just that for him.

"Would you mind if I used some of your hair to make a wig?"

After she threw something at him, of course.

Note:

The facts the Doctor spouts about redheads are taken from three different websites: