Chapter Text
The Doctor stared at the woman, who, in turn, stared back from behind the cash register, holding her outstretched hand midair.
It really was her.
Donna Noble.
"Oi, are you planning to pay today, lady?"
The Doctor regained her poise. Of course Donna Noble had no idea who she was. The Doctor had changed her face. Several times. And even if she hadn't, her old friend wouldn’t be able to recognize her. After all, she took great care of that.
"Oh," she began, "um, of course. Money. I have that. Euros, right? ”
Donna gave her this typical look in absolute disbelieve, and the Doctor immediately felt a few centuries younger.
“Pounds, lady. Even before the Brexit. ”
"Of course. Naturally. Absolutely. ”, The Doctor mumbled and rummaged in her pockets for the bill she had pulled out of a machine thanks to her trusty sonic screwdriver. Contrary to the general belief - that the theft of her TARDIS could result in - she really wasn’t a thief. But almost all banks on every planet were corrupt in some way, hungry for power, and way too rich. To in this specific case she didn’t mind.
She found the note and put it on the money shelf without taking her eyes off her old friend.
Donna was still exactly the same old. And yet it felt absolutely different. Naturally; for she was now looking at Donna from a different perspective, from a different height, it had been over a millennium since her last meeting, and besides, Donna was wearing a white polo shirt with a green apron, a gas station uniform that did not suit her in any way.
Not because it wasn't flattering about her looks, but because she was so much more than a gas station employee. She was witty, loving, open, brave and had one of the most generous hearts that the Doctor was ever lucky enough to witness. Besides that, she had saved earth more than once and even knowingly given her own life to protect it.
So yes. The gas station uniform didn't suit her.
Donna stared at the bill in her hand, still without moving, and peeked her tongue over her back teeth.
"Lady. That's 50 pounds. ”
The Doctor nervously cleared her throat. "Yes. So?"
"... for a packet of chewing gum."
The Doctor nodded.
Donna rolled her eyes.
One of the doctors hearts skipped a beat. Not because of fear, but because of the familiarity of this expression.
"I can't change that, lady."
"That’s fine. Keep the change. ”
Instead of being glad she drew her eyebrows closer together and her blue eyes darkened into a skeptical look.
Involuntarily, the Doctor had to smile
Of course Donna was skeptical. She was empathetic. Even if she could not comprehend the person in front of her, she was smart enough to feel that something was going on.
That - or it really was an absolutely surreal tip.
Probably ... probably the latter.
"Are you rich or something?"
The Doctor cleared her throat again.
“Yes, um. Yes. I'm rich."
Donna just shrugged and took the bill.
"I don't need that, you know," she growled softly.
The Doctor couldn't prevent her smile from widening.
"Yes I know."
“I'm sure you only do this to feel better about yourself. The rich are all the same. Giving alms to feel generous. Just so much that it doesn't hurt them. Don't expect me to slide on my knees and tell you saved my week, sunshine.”
"Yes, I know."
An almost uncontrollable urge to hug Donna overcame her. It felt exactly as it used to be. No mincing words, regardless of consequences.
"I'm really sick of it," she continued, and spoke so loudly that the whole store could hear her as she sorted the money into the till and typed something on the screen, "That we 'little' people are looked down upon like this, and we are patronized in this way without being really granted privileges. We're worthwhile, too. ”
"I know, Donna," replied the Doctor, feeling pride and joy overflowing her hearts.
"Don't pretend you have any idea what I -", Donna paused, "Wait a minute. How do you know my name?”
The Doctor couldn't hold back.
"Let me take you out for dinner," she said instead of answering, grasping for Donna's hand over the counter, "it would be my greatest honor. Pleasure, I mean. In years. Decades!”
Donna Noble looked at her in surprise, her mouth wide open; then at their holding hands.
Did she feel anything? No. Not possible. In the Doctor, however, a firework of emotions had started. Oh yes, she knew it would be better to leave Donna alone, but she just couldn't help it. The joy and longing was too overwhelming. She wanted to know everything about her old friend. She wanted to hear her talking, yelling and swearing. There was something magical about Donna that it even made another lifeform, like the Doctor, stop and wonder. In such a natural, banal and authentic way. She was so wonderfully real, and so wonderfully loud. So fragile and so strong. So rough and so sensitive. And so incredibly human. If the Doctor had to choose a single human representative, with no doubt it would be Donna. She summed up everything in humanity that the Doctor loved. And she was so terribly inspiring. So much so that it made even the Doctor a better person.
She felt completely succumbed to her loud, crude charm.
"You know how that sounds," Donna finally replied a little quieter than before. However, she didn't pull her hand back.
"No, I do not," the Doctor replied honestly.
"I'm into men," Donna replied skeptically.
The Doctor shook her head. "That's not what it is about."
Donna bit her lip and said nothing.
Then she finally pulled her hand back.
When disappointment started to raise up in the Doctors chest, Donna called into an adjoining room: “Gloria, I'm leaving for today. Don't you dare to backtalk, I did the last three shifts for you. ”