Rating:: PG-13 (implied sexual content)
Genre: Fluff, humour
Summary: Two friends, one bed, lots of sexual tension. That's about it, really.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the BBC, not to me.
Note: Way back in 2006 I wrote a little Smallville story entitled "Two Friends, One Bed." I was inspired to try a DW version of the same idea after watching "The Shakespeare Code," only with Ten/Donna. Dialogue only (in the mode of my original SV story), which I realise is not everyone's cup of tea.
"Oi! How come I don't get the bed?"
"Because you're the one who can't drive."
"I can drive just fine. The TARDIS sometimes has a mind of her own, that's all."
"Look, Spaceman, all I know is that I was promised a nice holiday on the golden beaches of Alamarasha, and instead I wound up on a planet that's so primitive they're still using chamber pots for plumbing. And then, as if that wasn't bad enough... now we're stuck here, 'cause you broke the TARDIS."
"Didn't break her, not really. Just haven't quite figured out what's wrong with her yet. She ought to be taking off, but for some reason, she won't."
"She's probably annoyed with you because you keep using that mallet on her. I've told you a hundred times--"
"Look here, Miss Ginger Know-It-All, I was using that mallet on her long before you were born."
"And she's probably bloody tired of it by now. I would be."
"She knows it's a sign of affection."
"Is that what you call it? Look, Doctor, if you ever use a mallet on me--"
"Not much danger of that. I'm not feeling a lot of affection for you right now, to be perfectly honest. This floor is hard."
"Oh, you're such a whinger."
"I'm serious. It's like sleeping on rock. No, wait... it is rock. Are you really going to make me sleep on a stone floor all night?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake. Stop with the crying and the whimpering already. You sound like an old spaniel I once had. He was a whinger, too."
"But it's hard. And cold."
"Oh, fine. Come up here. But you bloody well better stay on your own side of the bed, Time Boy. If you put your hands anywhere near me--"
"My hands are tired. So is the rest of me. And I don't actually make a habit of accosting my companions, anyway."
"Good. Because I am not at all interested in being accosted."
"Fine. That's just fine."
"Wonderful. Brilliant. Marvellous."
"Look, Spaceman, could you possibly stop pretending to be a thesaurus and shut the hell up? Some of us need some sleep."
"Yeah. If you don't sleep, you get grouchy. Wait a minute... don't you ever sleep?"
"Be glad it was only my pillow. If I had that mallet you use on your poor ship--"
"Wouldn't want to use that on me, Donna. It's a sign of affection, remember? I might get the idea you're accosting me, or something."
"You and your ship have a really odd relationship, do you realise that?"
"As opposed to you and me. Why are you always so tetchy, anyway?"
"Tetchy? I'm not tetchy. You're just extremely irritating."
"Oh, so it's all my fault you're always yelling at the top of your lungs?"
"Yes, it is. No one but a saint could help yelling at you, and I'm no saint."
"Tell me about it."
"Do you really want me to hit you with this pillow again?"
"Aaarrrghhh. You are absolutely the most irritating companion I've ever had. Remind me again why we didn't get separate rooms?"
"Because there's supposedly some sort of weird monster running loose out there, and you were afraid to be on your own."
"I was afraid for you, actually."
"Sure you were."
"I really have no idea why I keep putting up with you, Donna. You're mouthy, you're annoying, and you're somehow managing to take up three-quarters of the bed."
"As skinny as you are, you don't need more than a quarter of it, anyway."
"I'm entitled to half. Move over."
"Oi! Quit shoving! What did I say about your hands?"
"My hands are not doing anything except pushing you over a bit."
"Your hands do not belong on my bits, Martian!"
"That is not what I said. Not even remotely. I said-- oh, never mind. Just shove over, will you?"
"No. I won't. You're the size of a stick, and you don't need that much space. You're just being a pain."
"Fine. If you really want to cuddle up so close to me..."
"I'm moving! I'm moving!"
"Much better. Ahhhhhh."
"Your arm is now on top of me, Spaceman."
"I was just stretching."
"You're done stretching, and you're still on top of me."
"Just my arm. I was worried you might be chilly."
"There's a blanket."
"Thin, poor excuse for a blanket, if you ask me. I'm just looking out for your welfare, Donna. I'd hate for you to get cold in the middle of the night."
"Like your skinny arm is going to keep me warm. It's about as big round as a pencil."
"Well, how about if I do this?"
"The rest of you isn't that much bigger than a pencil, either."
"Thanks for that. Thanks, so much."
"Still... this is a little warmer, I will admit."
"Better than the blanket?"
"A bit, yeah. And speaking of bits... what's this?"
"Oh yourself, Spaceman. Don't think I'm accosting you, or anything. Just doing my part to help keep us both warm."
"And you are doing a wonderful job. Brilliant, really. Absolutely spectacular."
"Alien, you talk too much. Do us both a favor, and quit talking, or I'll have to hit you with a mallet."
"Ah, I knew it. An undeniable sign of affection, that. You do like me, don't you?"
"Well... maybe a little bit."
"Come on. Admit it. You like me."
"Oi! Who said you could take my clothes off?"
"Just admit it."
"Fine. I like you. But just like like. It's not like I fancy you or anything."
"I like you too, Donna Noble. You're very, very annoying sometimes, but I do like you."
"I guessed that, what with you taking my jumper off and all."
"I'm going to work on your jeans next. You have a problem with that?"
"Not really, but you're wearing so many clothes it's going to be morning by the time I have all yours off."
"Don't worry, Donna. I'm absolutely worth the effort."
"Don't believe me?"
"Well... you'll have to prove it to me."
"Oh, I plan to, Donna Noble. I definitely plan to."