Donna lost her grip on the edge of the console and stumbled back hard against the railing, glad of the improvised padding there. She made a half hearted attempt to get back to the console but it was like climbing uphill and she gave up and settled for clinging on.

The Doctor meanwhile, wasn't holding onto anything except the controls and seemed to be keeping his position by sheer willpower – and one foot braced against foot of the seats.

The other foot was flailing in mid air, and as Donna watched, found purchase against a lever on the next panel.

"Ha!" came the shout as the Doctor kicked at the lever and jammed it full open with his foot while letting go with one hand to reach for yet another control.

There was one last final shudder and then calm returned.

Donna let go of the rail cautiously – the noise and shaking might have stopped, but there was always the possibility that that wasn't quite the last of it. Especially since the Doctor seemed of the same thought and still had both hands and one foot on the controls, from which spread-eagled position he was hanging sideways to stare at the scanner screen.

After a moment, he looked back at her, let go with a wide grin and pushed himself away from the console and towards the battered seat in one movement.

And disappeared.

For a moment Donna thought he had toppled clean off the seat, but he bounced back up again, brandishing a thermos plucked from somewhere below.

"There we are then! Tea!" The Doctor raised the flask high and contemplated it. "Nothing better for post-alien-invasion relaxation!"

Donna rolled her eyes, and took the proffered cup but the Doctor wasn't finished.

"Most species would drink themselves under the table as distraction – humans though... Tea! It's brilliant!"

"The whole planet doesn't make tea in a crisis," Donna pointed out.

The Doctor shrugged. "It's still brilliant."

Donna took another drink.

"It's odd though. Another alien..." she waved her hand, "...thing... disguised as a human. Again. Why humans all the time?"

The Doctor swirled his tea. "Well we're on Earth aren't we – wouldn't be much of a disguise otherwise."

Donna missed her mouth with the tea as a sudden thought struck her.

"You... you're not... you look human... Tell me you're not some alien tentacled thing really."

He smiled. "No. This is me. I always look like this. Well. Not always. Not a few years ago actually. Different face. Teeth. But this shape. More or less. Y'know – arms-legs-face No tentacles."

Donna realised she must have been boggling because he, for once, slowed down.

"Honestly," he said. "This is me." He grinned again. "Humans just happen to be more or less Time Lord shaped. Well -- on the outside."

"But that's just so unlikely!"

"It's a big universe."

"Doesn't that make it more unlikely."

"No. Statistically, no."

"But--"

"Anyway," He frowned in apparent complete puzzlement. "Why tentacles?"

Donna flushed slightly.

"It's just..." She looked at the control he had kicked. "Why would a species with only two arms design a spaceship that needed half a dozen arms to fly it?"

A quick smile flashed across the Doctor's face, that rare delighted grin that you got when you'd said something clever, even in comparison with his sparkling mind.

"Oh that's good!" he said. "Ten out of ten for observation. Brilliant!"

The smile fell away as quickly as it'd come leaving his face unnaturally still. That was a familiar look too. It was the look that said you had yet again blundered in and opened your gob on a subject that he'd really rather you hadn't.

He answered though, and Donna listened in silence, because he didn't always.

"It wasn't built to be flown by one person." The Doctor looked around at the hodgepodge of controls, mismatched repairs and incongruous parts. "And the automatics were damaged." He shook his head. "Long time ago."

A smile, the usual forerunner to a dismissive response, crossed his face so quickly it was almost a flinch. "No more TARDIS repair shops out there now." He leapt to his feet, tossed the empty plastic teacup down on the seat and started prodding feverishly at buttons and panels all over again, his tone animated. "Just my old jury-rigs. Anyway, keeps me fit, can't slob about in here then expect to be up for all that running about in the middle of planet-wide invasions can I?"

Donna watched in silence as he rattled on, all noise and movement, still talking and still saying nothing in particular.

After a minute or so he seemed to wind down and spun round to face her, leaning against the console, the blue glow from behind him casting long shadows on the grated deck.

"You're very quiet all of a sudden."

Donna shrugged and gave a slightly forced smile of her own before making a decision. She huffed through her teeth in mock offence and kicked out at his trainer with her own foot.

"You can talk! Like you don't make enough noise to fill this place without me!"

The Doctor's eyes widened and his arms folded tightly across his chest slackened slightly. Clearly not the tack he'd been expecting. Donna smiled a genuine smile at his bemusement.

"Look," she said. "Like you said, you just wanted a mate. That's me. Just a mate." She reached out a hand to grab his arm and shake it slightly. "Nobody who's owed any soul searching revelations. A mate, that's all. Okay? If I'm poking my nose where you don't want it you can just tell me. 'Cause we're mates."

The Doctor could stare like no one else, and his silences seemed to actively swallow sound and right now Donna was getting a full dose of both but she pressed on.

"But do just tell me, will you? Don't go all chilly Time Lordy on me then pretend nothing happened. If I'm being an insensitive cow, just tell me to shut up." She gave another coaxing grin. "Not like I've never heard it before."

The Doctor didn't rise to this invitation, but did smile. A slow, calm smile with a slight shake of the head. He stretched out the arm she was still holding and squeezed her hand.

"Don't say 'just'. You, Donna, are not 'just' anything."

Donna opened her mouth, closed it again and, suddenly flustered, looked away. This time it was the Doctor who broke the slightly emotional atmosphere.

"But... 'Time Lordy'?"

Donna snapped her head back to face him again and tilted her chin. "Oh, shut up."

His smile broadened, teasingly. "Really? Shut up?"

He met her eyes, levelly, and his voice turned quiet. "I could tell you a story instead."

His eyebrows flickered up slightly, perhaps in amusement at her scrutiny as Donna studied his expression. After a moment she shook her head slightly.

"I already said, you don't need to do that. Not if you don't want to."

"Just a story." His voice was light though he continued to hold her gaze. "An anecdote. The sort of story, you'd tell a mate. 'My first driving lesson' style of thing."

Donna stared at him a few seconds longer, but arguing now would sort of put the kybosh on her argument about just being a mate and not trying to press one way or the other.

"Fair enough," she said. "Anything left in that flask then? This sounds like a tea occasion."

The Doctor retrieved the flask from where it had been discarded and shook it thoughtfully.

"Enough for a shortish tale."

He fiddled with the lid for a moment before opening it and pouring. He handed the first cup to Donna, without quite meeting her eyes. Without giving her a chance to say again that he didn't need to do the whole sorry story thing.

Just as she was about to stop him anyway he spoke up.

"You were the first to ask if you could have a go flying the TARDIS you know?"

Donna blinked. "Never!"

"Yeah," He grinned. "Well... I mean one or two maybe just went ahead anyway. Or got stranded and had a bash, or tore the poor thing apart and ended up twisted up and a part of the whole thing... Fancied having a go and asking for a flying lesson though - nope. Just you."

He swirled the coffee, and looked at her.

"And that's odd now I think about it because you did pick it up far easier than any human should. I mean a little near miss with the eighties is nothing for a first time. TARDISes have had to skip whole dimensions to avoid learner drivers crashing them before now."

"You helped," Donna shrugged as she always did when he tried to be nice, tried that whole 'you're special, you're clever routine' that he used so well.

"Yes," he allowed. "And so did the TARDIS. But she wouldn't have done for everyone."

"What d'you mean the TARDIS helped?"

"Telepathic, remember? Like the translations. Part of steering one of these is knowing where you want to go."

Donna frowned. "I didn't notice." She took the flask from the Doctor and topped up her cup.

"Humans don't, mostly."

"Like the Ood song."

"Yeah."

"So you do notice?"

"Yes." He leaned back, spread his arms wide to indicate the whole console room. "This ship is alive. A bit. Almost conscious. Aware."

He swung himself up and wandered to one of the pillars, patting it and resting his hand there as he continued to talk.

"Mind you, bit eccentric this one. Been stuck with just me too long probably. You get attached. Connected. Time Lords and TARDISes, everyone always thought of the two together."

He let go of the pillar and turned back.

"When you were young, training, that was the one bit you couldn't wait for. Flying a TARDIS." He smiled, eyes distant. "You should have seen it. Felt it. Six people moving together, thinking together, seven minds, the TARDIS itself weaving your thoughts together, making six into one. The first time you were part of that..."

He moved to the console. "You learned each position first. Automatics running the others. It worked, more or less, but it was nothing to how it was when you flew as you were supposed to fly."

He fiddled with a control, that Donna suspected probably didn't need adjusting at all. She stared at his back, knowing his face would be closed again. How could it not be when there were no longer six people anywhere in the universe who could share that ever again?

Donna stood and joined him.

"You helped me hear the Ood," she said quietly. "Could I hear the TARDIS?"

He turned, startled. "I don't know." He grinned. "I honestly don't know." The surprise and interest at a new idea suited him much better than introspection.

He looked at her thoughtfully. "You really want to try?"

Donna nodded.

The Doctor stepped closer, cautious. "It might not work."

"Try."

He raised his hands to her cheeks, Donna resisted the urge to flinch, the last time, with the Ood had not been a pleasant experience.

"Relax," the Doctor murmured. "Listen."

She closed her eyes, relaxed. She could hear the normal sounds of the TARDIS, the soft throb of who-knew what. She'd assumed machinery but armed with new information the phrase 'heartbeat' pushed itself to mind.

"Listen this way," the Doctor continued and somehow the sounds became less distinct while at the same time something else filtered into her awareness, not by ear or eye, though the brain tried to make sense of them in terms of sound or sight.

A warmth, and a sound that was almost a feeling that was almost a glow, touched Donna's perception.

She gasped.

"Alright?" the Doctor's voice intruded and the sensation faded.

Donna nodded, feeling his hands slip lightly across her face as she did. "It's just--strange."

The feeling washed over her again, with more clarity this time. Curiosity that was only partly her own coloured her thoughts, and some other emotion, that she couldn't quite yet pick out from the swirl of sensation.

The Doctor let go.

"Open your eyes."

Donna did. For some reason she'd expected things to look different somehow. But everything was the same, apart from the encompassing slightly distracting awareness of something other.

She looked at the scanner, and then did a slight double-take, because she could understand it. Or at least understand the words, as words, not swirls of symbols which were the TARDIS' normal one exception to the translations. What the technobabble they displayed might mean, she really didn't know in any language.

Amusement.

She looked up to see the Doctor grinning at her in smiling fascination.

"That's you!" she said, realising the source of the amused feeling. "Well you needn't laugh at me inside my own head, pal!"

Contrite.

Donna blinked.

"The TARDIS," the Doctor said. "She's a bit of a pup, doesn't like being told off."

He was still grinning.

"So! Where shall we fly?"

Donna moved towards the controls and stared at them. Something familiar about them now. A clarity. She reached out at the same time as the Doctor did to the next panel over.

"Anywhere!" she grinned back.

The whole universe stretched out around them and she could feel their speed as they raced down the vortex.

Steady.

She shot a glance at the Doctor, who winked. He hadn't spoken aloud.

Her hand moved without thinking to a control she'd never used.

Gently.

She nodded. She knew.

Better.

And that one was the TARDIS itself. Herself. Pleased with them. As the Doctor had said, happy as a puppy whose owners had decided to play.

There.

Donna hadn't spotted it but at the prompt she realised something had changed. They had left the vortex. Writing danced across the scanner, swirls and circles which all made sense.

They landed.

Donna took her hands from the controls and some of the awareness faded. She looked at the Doctor who held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

Together they stepped outside, hearing or feeling the gentle winding down of the engines, the ticking of cooling components, in the still air.

The planet was beautiful. Two small suns lit a dark blue sky, and shone on rivers where golden fish flashed and leapt.

"I bow to your taste in choice of planets." The Doctor shrugged out of the coat he'd automatically put on to leave the TARDIS and flung it back inside. "Nice place!"

Donna shook her head. "I didn't know we were coming here. I don't know where here is."

"But you wanted somewhere like here, and the TARDIS found it for you."

Donna grinned. "Perfect!"

And for once it was. They walked and picniced and bought souvenirs from the locals, who for once did not a) try to kill them b) turn out to be about to get killed off themselves by something else.

They wandered back to the TARDIS as the first of the two suns was setting.

Back inside, the Doctor moved to the console. Donna moved to follow him but only got two steps before dizziness made her stagger against a pillar..

Concern.

The Doctor spun round although she was sure she hadn't made a sound.

"Alright?"

Donna blinked. She'd forgotten over the course of the day, how intense the link had seemed at first, but back inside and sleepy after a day outdoors, it was overwhelming.

She shook her head as the Doctor approached.

"Bit dizzy. Just tired I think."

He looked at her until she raised her eyebrows in irritation.

"Want a photo? It'll last longer!"

He smiled, shrugged. "Bit of a kip before the next planet then maybe." He frowned again. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Fine."

He shrugged, apparently willing to take that at face value, or at least not argue about it even if he didn't believe it.

Donna headed to her room and slipped off her shoes to lay down fully dressed on the bed. When she closed her eyes she could feel the whole world turning, and she opened them again. Better to have the visual reassurance that she wasn't actually spinning out of control.

She supposed she ought to go and tell the Doctor after all, this could be a side effect of whatever he'd done to enable her to link with the TARDIS. But it had been such fun... It would be a shame to lose that if it really was just a silly sleepy overreaction.

Before she'd quite decided what to do, she'd already nodded off.

The Doctor sat in the console room chair, feet up and head back against the rail. Listening.

The hum of the ship, the feel of it, was just slightly out of key. Another note added to it that was no longer quite in tune.

Donna. Had to be. He'd been silly to hope that a human could ever truly make that link, ease that loneliness. He ought to undo it. He didn't know what effect it might have on either of them. Donna or the TARDIS.

And yet, it had been so good to have another mind in concert with them, flying together after so so long alone. Perhaps it would be alright and she only needed to get used to it. When she'd rested, then he would see.

He closed his eyes for a moment under the warm glow of the console room lights. He felt warm, and strangely sleepy.

His eyes snapped open again. That wasn't his feeling. He hardly ever slept for long, and certainly a mere few hours exploring a fresh new world wasn't enough to tire him.

Donna of course.

He blinked, a little disconcerted by the sensation. Flying the TARDIS was one thing – that felt natural – the bodily weakness of an alien mind clouding his own thought was something different. Not entirely pleasant.

He shook his head. And how horribly dismissive of his friend did that sound? He smiled, well able to imagine the earache he'd get on the subject if he ever refered to Donna as 'alien' in her hearing! Or indeed made reference to her 'bodily weaknesses'.

He leant back again, and then, lulled by the steady pulsing of the TARDIS, drifted into a doze.

He woke confused, not sure what had awakened him and in the next moment not sure why he'd been sleeping at all. Eyes flickered around the room as he stood and fixed on Donna. She was leaning heavily against the console, her back to him and her fingers wrapped around one of the knurled wheels. Holding it so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

"Donna?" he asked, cautiously, not wanting to startle her since she seemed so oblivious to him. "Are you alright?"

He touched her shoulder and she jumped and turned to him. And it was him who was startled in turn as her face was tear streaked.

"Donna?"

"She's lonely," Donna whispered. "She misses them too."

The Doctor felt something crumple inside, fought to keep his expression from betraying it, while knowing his feelings must be doing exactly that through the link.

"Yeah," he murmured, all the while cursing himself. How could he have been so unthinking not to realise that that too would bleed through the link. How could he have been so unthinking as to expose Donna to that again, even after the Ood?

"It hurts," Her voice cracked a little, "Like something's been sliced out, cut away."

She met his eyes, her own full of miserable understanding.

"And some of that's not the TARDIS, some of that's you."

"Yeah."

She stepped closer. Leaned against him and gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked, put my foot in it again haven't I? I should have thought,. Should have realised."

He shook his head, managed a smile. "Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

He sighed. "It's not as bad as it probably feels to you." He touched the console himself. "It's been a long time. I'm-- We're... used to each other now."

Donna sniffed a bit, dragged and hand cross her face to clear her eyes. "Always thought you squabbled with this ship like an old married couple."

The Doctor smiled more easily this time. "Well, she's old and cantankerous, you know."

"Just her?" Donna asked, before her watery smile was broken by a wince. "Did you know? Like on the Ood-sphere? Am I just not cut out for handling this sort of stuff without the waterworks?"

He shook his head. "You're human, Donna. You can't just scoop up another species' thoughts and feelings and squash them in."

"Stupid, weakling human?"

He shook his head, shook her shoulders. "No!" He beamed at her. "The absolute opposite. You're too good, too empathic. Do know how few species, how few people, in the universe would care enough to feel that pain? "Look at me! It didn't even occur to me that you would. Stupid old alien!"

Donna shoved his shoulder, smiled a bit more strongly. "Don't give me that."

He smiled.

"Come here."

Donna looked at him and her smile faded. "You're going to take it away."

He nodded. "I should have already. I knew earlier. When we got back." He resisted the urge to look away, ashamed of his reasons for not doing so. "I just didn't want to."

To his immense relief Donna didn't argue.

"It was fun though," she said, with a large, if rather forced smile before her face grew serious again. "And you're not to gnash about it, okay?"

"Gnash?" the Doctor repeated dumbly, momentarily stymied.

"Gnash," Donna confirmed in a no-nonsense tone. "You're not to wail and bemoan doing it and get all guilt-ridden and go falling over a pile of pointless 'sorry's." She gave him another shove. "It was fun trying and it didn't quite work and it's not your fault. Got it?"

The Doctor gaped for a second before managing to formulate an answer.

"I think that might actually be the single most unfriendly bit of friendly reassurance I've ever had."

"Good!" Donna snapped. "Glad to know I can still add something new after nine centuries."

"Yes." The Doctor shook his head slowly and smiled. "You may well be unique."

He held out his hands again. "Now come here."

She stepped forward to let him touch her face. It was fast, and her only reaction was a small gasp.

He let go. Donna looked around the room slowly.

"Better?" the Doctor asked.

She nodded. "It doesn't hurt any more." She shot a sudden quick glance in his direction. "Quiet though."

He would have started the apologising at that point if it hadn't been for her firm warning against it and lost for an alternative, just shrugged. "You'll get used to that again."

To his utter surprise her reaction was a broad grin.

"Na!" she said, "Never quiet for long round here is it?"

The Doctor stared at her, feeling a smile start to spread across his own face and more grateful for her reaction and company and unspoken, down to earth support than she could possibly know.

"Not if I can help it," he said, and gestured to the console.

"Would you like to do the honours...?"

--END--

Well, this was my first DW fanfic, if one doesn't count the things you invent while tearing around the garden aged 4, pretending the dog is a Dalek... I just loved DOnna flying the TARDIS -- wouldn't we all want to! So I had to play with the idea. Complimetns and brickbats equally welcome as always.