Prompt: The missing scene in Blink, but with Donna.

Disclaimer: I own some working knowledge of what it was like in London in the 60s, and that's as far as it goes.

Back In The Day

Part 1

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Donna eyed the small one-bedroomed flat with concern. Flat? It wasn't much more than a bedsit. The floor was covered by turquoise lino that someone had once thought would look rather fetching. Dull yellow curtains hung up at the window despondently, trying their best to look fashionable. There was a kitchen area leading off the lounge, an excuse for a bathroom with its faded bath and old fashioned black toilet cistern, a bedroom filled up by a double bed, a dark wooden utility wardrobe, and not much else; and hot water supplied by a reasonably new ascot on the wall. All other heating came from a coal fire in front of the beaten up, once richly-brown, old sofa, and an equally beaten up blood red rag rug. That was it for the furnished flat, apart from the old foldup stained pine table and two unmatching dining chairs that stood beside it. At least the windows were reasonably large and wouldn't take much effort to clean. The view outside overlooked several private gardens of varying neatness, but they all had lawns.

The overall effect was a worn out brown home waiting patiently to welcome somebody in.

"Is it alright then, for you and your husband?" the man offering the flat had anxiously asked her as he hovered by her side.

It was only by chance that she stopped herself from demanding what husband exactly. It was early days still, and money was tight until she could get a decent job to pay rent on a better place. She forced herself to smile at him. "Yes, thank you. I'm sure we'll be happy here."

What had started as a dismal, overcast day, quickly became a life-changing one when the Doctor and Donna had turned up at Wester Drumlins to investigate a strange disappearance, and met a harmless stone angel. Well, they'd thought it was a harmless statue right up to the point it had suddenly appeared aggressively in front of them, and they were thrown and sucked down a whirling time tunnel, to be spat out somewhere else entirely.

It hadn't taken them very long to establish the date when they had been thrown back in time by the Weeping Angels. There had been many clues, what with all the Austin Powers outfits, the miniskirts and the state of the cars. Oh my goodness! They were a sight to behold. Anyway, the actual date had been found by picking up a conveniently thrown away newspaper, and the familiarity of the landscape was soon explained, fortunately. Donna found herself standing within miles of home, but almost forty years earlier than she had anticipated; and a good few years before she was born. The Doctor had looked absolutely stunned when they had discovered where they were.

"Yes, I get that those angel statues had something to do with us ending up here; but why?!" Donna had angrily demanded. "What good does it do them to play about with us like this?"

"Our life force, Donna," the Doctor had patiently replied. "By sending us back they hope to feed off our life force."

"I'm surprised you won't have made them ill by doing that," she had muttered. "I'm merely an hors d'oeuvres in comparison. Let's hope they were as sick as dogs."

"Well, we can live in hope," he answered with a smile; pleased that she had managed to lighten the mood. "The question remains the same: how do we get back?"

"Can't we phone the present you up and hitch a lift home?" she wondered hopefully. "You know, the you that is running around in the loud trousers and braces. Or is it the fancy velvet suit by now?"

"No, Donna," he told her sternly, still miffed that she had dissed his dress style when he had shown her photos. "It is against the rules to cross one's own time line."

"Too late, mate, for that," she mumbled; and then sighed. "At least I know this place," she said more audibly as she looked around. "My granddad used to own a shop around here." She then hesitantly asked, "Can we go and see him? Is that allowed? He might be able to help us."

"I'm not sure…," the Doctor began to say, but Donna was striding off with determination.

"Come on," she encouraged him to follow, and held out her hand in invitation. "What harm can it do? If memory serves me right, he might have somewhere for us to live for a while."

"Really?!" the Doctor queried with interest, and quickly ran to catch her up; grabbing her hand in the process.

Donna eagerly nodded back. "There was a flat above his shop that he sometimes rented out; and we need to sleep somewhere until we can work out a solution to our problem. It might take us days."

The Doctor thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Do you remember the young woman who thrust a plastic folder into my hands that time? I think this might be that moment," he considered.

She immediately stopped walking to gawp at him. "But… that means we will be here for months! There was loads for us to do first."

"Donna, you weren't supposed to read it all," he chided her.

She merely shrugged her shoulders at him in self-defence. "Always be prepared, is my motto. At least I now know that I've got to find a job to support us while you find the technology to produce DVDs. And we've got to look out for that Billy bloke."

"Billy Shipton," the Doctor supplied. "Yes, we need to set up a base, and organise ourselves. Perhaps Wilf can help us after all."

"If he can't, he's bound to know a man who can," she answered confidently.

The direct consequence of this was that they found themselves standing outside a paper shop in a parade of shops near Chiswick High Road, peering curiously in through the large glass window. Displayed in the lower corner of the pane was a postcard announcing that there was a local furnished flat to rent.

"See! Told you!" Donna trilled triumphantly at the Doctor, and did a little victory dance.

He tugged on her hand to stop her smugly walking into the shop. "There is one problem, Donna. How are you going to introduce yourself?"

"Good question. Do I go the distant relation route, or should I just let you make up one of your lies?" she pondered.

"I do not make up lies!" he indignantly denied until he caught her knowing expression. "They are ready formed… Okay, I'll handle this."

But she stopped him before he could stride into the shop. "Doctor, what if I don't recognise him? What if he doesn't like us? This could all go horribly wrong," she anxiously pondered, and bit her lip nervously.

He grinned reassuringly at her. "Donna, you know from old photos what he looks like; and if he likes us in the future he's bound to like us now. As you said on the way here, if he can't offer us the rooms then he'll point us in the right direction. Your grandfather is one of life's gentlemen." Having said that, he led her into the interior of the shop.

Within seconds they heard, "Can I help you?" They were greeted by the friendly tones of the shopkeeper; who just happened to be Wilfred Mott. He reached out towards a pile of newspapers on the counter in anticipation.

"Ah, yes! Good afternoon. We were wondering about the furnished flat you are offering," the Doctor replied as pleasantly as he could. "When will it be available?"

"I can show it to you and your wife right now, if you like," Wilf affably answered. "When do you need a place by?"

The Doctor gave a small cough. "Immediately, if that's no problem. We erm… there was a sudden accident this morning and, not to put too fine a point on it, we lost absolutely everything and have nothing but the things we stand up in for the time being."

"Nothing?!" Wilf queried in shock.

"Absolutely nothing," Donna added for confirmation, pasting on a sad expression despite it being true.

"Haven't you got any family you can go to?" Wilf asked compassionately.

That caused a flutter of angst to pass over the Doctor's features. "We're all we have in the world. Our families are gone; there's no-one left for us to ask."

"Oh Gawd!" Wilf commiserated. "I'm Wilfred Mott, by the way, but you can call me Wilf," he introduced himself by offering a hand to shake.

The Doctor readily took it. "I'm John Smith." When Donna glared at him, he quickly extended it to, "Dr John Smith, and this is Donna."

Wilf's eyes went wide in surprise. "A medical man, aye? Lovely to meet you, John and Donna. "

Donna forced a giggle as she too shook his hand. "He's only a science gadget man, so don't bother showing him your back pain; but he could probably fix your telly."

Wilf winked at her. "Rightio; duly noted. I'll take you straight away to see the flat."

That was how Donna found herself in the surreal situation of standing in her mother's former home, contemplating renting it from her sort of future grandfather.

"What do you think… darling?" she asked the Doctor, deliberately emphasising the endearment in order to tease him.

To her annoyance he barely turned a hair. "I think it will do nicely. I can show you some personal references, Mr Mott, but unfortunately we cannot pay you any money yet."

"Wilf," Wilf gently reminded him to say; and peered at the Doctor's psychic paper, clearly impressed by the references he saw there. "In light of your current sad circumstances, I'm sure I can wait until the end of the week for the rent; but don't take advantage!"

"I assure you we won't," the Doctor promised, and smiled with relief at Donna as Wilf bustled about to extract the keys from his pocket and hand them over.

"I'll phone the wife right away, and she'll bring you some fresh bedding," Wilf promised as he headed for the door.

"Thank you," Donna gushed, as she impulsively kissed Wilf's cheek. "You don't know how much we appreciate your kindness."

Wilf blushed crimson in embarrassment. "If you can't help people when they are in trouble and have nothing, when can you?" he answered, and practically ran off before calling out goodbye.

That left Donna and the Doctor standing in the flat alone together, feeling somewhat self-conscious with the turn of events.

"So I'm your wife in this scenario," she inevitably stated.

"Well… yes," he drawled reluctantly. "We do seem to have ended up in a fake marriage again."

"Yeah, tell me about it," she mumbled sarcastically. "Talking of which, do you still carry about biodampers with you?" she thought to ask.

"Biodampers? I don't know," he admitted vaguely, and thrust a hand into his pocket. "Why? Do you need one?"

"I don't exactly, but I will need a pretend wedding ring to carry on this charade," she said with clarity.

"Ah, in that case I can offer you this," he declared, bringing out a plain gold band to slip on her finger without any ceremony.

"In the light of fairness and equality, if I've got to wear something, I think it only right that you wear one too," she argued.

To her dismay he smirked back at her, delved in and brought out his hand from his pocket in a flurry. "It's a good job I have one on me then!" he declared. "I will need to hide myself from my current self."

She huffed back at him. "Give it here and I'll do the honours."

"What honours?" he asked, pouting at her in confusion.

In answer, she grabbed his left hand and placed the biodamper on his ring finger. "With this ring I thee biodamp," she said, deliberately popping the 'p' in the same way that he had done.

The Doctor burst into laughter and then tried to sullenly say, "For better, for worse."

He then looked expectantly at her.