Author: Lilac Summers
Fandom: Doctor Who
Classification: Humor, Angst, vampire mayhem
Rating: Non-explicit mature
A/N: I know this took me a really really long time to write and I'm sorry! The story went all over the place. It really shouldn't have been 2 chapters, but I knew I'd never finish it if I tried for longer! So, sorry if it seems a bit rushed! In case you missed it: Part 1 here
Donna sat at the head of his bed, a happy-frolicking-chubby-Adipose-babies-p
She looked very much not amused. But every time he opened his mouth to apologize again, she sent him such a piercing glare that he immediately zipped it.
After more agonizing seconds of heavy silence, she finally spoke. "So let me get this straight," she began, too quietly to bode well."You," she stressed, "turned me into a vampire. Is that about right?"
He nodded once.
"This," she said, pointing to one of her new, dainty fangs, "is your fault."
Another nod, and the charged silence fell again.
"All right," she said calmly. "Hand me that spoon."
Without thinking, the Doctor fished the wooden spoon off the floor and politely made to pass it on, before niggling suspicion stayed his hand. "Err, why?"
"Because," she stated, "I'm going to stake you with it."
And Donna pounced.
Turning vampire hadn't been as easy an affair for Donna as it had apparently been for the Doctor. He had been able to automatically control the flow of the symbiont through his blood stream, tweaking it as it went, directing it straight through to the major organs instead of letting it flow unchecked through his entire body. As a result, the change had taken exactly 1.39 minutes and had involved little more than a twinge of discomfort.
Donna, on the other hand, didn't have the benefit of Time Lord physiological control. She still had vestiges of Time Lord floating through her, but not enough to matter in this case (not enough to keep him from wondering, endlessly, when he would lose her). She had convulsed in agony for a long time, pinned under the Doctor's weight as he attempted to inhibit her movements so she wouldn't hurt herself.
It had ended with her frantically pushing him off so she could run into the bathroom to vomit, spectacularly.
He had tried to hold her hair back. She had elbowed him in the stomach.
After dry heaving for what seemed like forever, she had rounded on him and frog-marched him out the bathroom, then slammed the door in his face. He'd paced nervously outside for a while before gathering the discarded towel and plaster from the floor. When she finally stalked out, smelling of toothpaste and soap and rage, he'd held out the items like a sacrificial offering.
She'd snatched the plaster from him and covered the two neat puncture wounds, already half healed, on her neck. Then she had stared at the towel for a long second as if she were wondering how she could possibly strangle him with it. Not that she could kill him via strangulation anymore, but he was willing to bet she'd give it the old college try anyway. He had backed up, prudently not approaching her again until she had settled herself in his bed. At which point he had bravely ventured to sit at the foot, and the glaring had commenced.
And that was how he now had an enraged vampire Donna trying to stake him with a spoon
"I. Can't. Believe. You!" she snarled, punctuating each word with open-handed smacks that he tried to fend off as best he could. She obviously wasn't aware of her new vampire strength!
"No. You're. Not!" shrieked Donna, ending with a particularly lovely smack that laid him out spread eagled on the bed.
Donna scrambled to kneel over the dazed Doctor. "You knew this was going to happen the moment you decided to bite me!" she accused.
"Well, yes, but in all fairness, if you'd thought about it just a little bit you would have figured it out, too. And you didn't ask."
Donna fumed, color high on preternaturally paler cheeks. "Of course I didn't ask - that's the kind of information you give freely! 'Hey, Donna, since you're my best mate and have kindly agreed to feed me, you should know it will turn you into a vampire too.' You don't wait to see if it occurs someone to ask!" She made a throttling movement with her hands, and the Doctor decided the intelligent thing was to grab her wrists in a bid of self-defense.
"Why wouldn't you turn into a vampire? I told you I turned into one after Henry bit me."
"You said he'd gone overboard! I assumed there had been some questionable-sort of, oh I don't know, homoerotic blood exchange. Do you read no popular novels? Didn't you ever see a single vampire film? That's how things are done, you ABSOLUTE SPACE MORON!"
"That...that's fiction, Donna. Plenty of other vampire myths have someone turning into a vampire just from being bitten," he offered. She bared her fangs at him in a completely unconscious display of rage, and he would have died rather than admit he found it enticing rather than scary.
"Bollocks! You knew I had assumed it was more complicated than that, don't try to deny it," she accused.
He tightened his grip when Donna struggled, trying to get free and maybe go for the eyes this time. "I don't know how you think!" he defended.
"You liar," she hissed.
He opened his mouth for another denial, then closed it abruptly. "Yes," he finally admitted, voice low and pained, "I'm a liar."
The truth was this:
After he had abandoned her in the arms of her family, he had spent months traveling to the farthest reaches of space and time, searching for a way to bring Donna Noble, his very best mate and the most loyal of companions, back to him. And when, against all odds and fate itself he had found a way to calm the energy raging through her brain, had brought her back to him, brought her home...
He found it wasn't enough.
Because he couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think for the wondering - when would he lose her again? A stray bullet, a misplaced step, an unknown disease; it could happen at any time. Humans were so very fragile. Even if he kept her away from anything dangerous and consigned them to years of floating harmlessly in the vortex, her human body would age and die. What could he hope for at most? 50 years?
Unless he cheated.
One of his most staunchly held rules (perhaps the only rule he hadn't yet broken) was to allow his companions to live out their normal lifespans. He'd lied to Rose, he lied to them all, he could have more time with them. All intelligent species, at some point in their development, perfected a way to extend life, and humans were no different. But he never offered. It wasn't fair to alter their natural lives when at some point they'd be expected to go back home, to a normal life with regular people and family that would die off around them. Nobody was going to give him forever, really, and he wouldn't break that rule.
Until Donna. Oh, he was willing to break so many rules for Donna – the one companion who would never ask him to do so on her behalf.
He'd thought long and hard about taking her to the peak of the Great Human Empire, giving her course after course of expensive youth longevity therapy. She could live to a very healthy, active 150. That would give him more than a century by her side before her cells broke down completely, too unstable for more treatments. Assuming an unlucky accident didn't rip her away from him before then.
And though bits of Time Lord still swirled through her blood, dormant and mysterious and capable of who knew what, they likely weren't enough to save her when her human life ended.
Logically, then, the only option was to make her not human.
His conscience had shied away from that solution for a
long time, until a particularly close call had crumbled his resolve to pieces. So he studied and he planned. Cashed in favors, begged, pleaded and threatened until he found the information and exact coordinates he needed.
He had been hunting for information on a civilization so long destroyed that only the farthest reaches of the universe remembered: for a short period of time the population on the Planet of Eternal Night had flourished due to a symbiont that allowed the inhabitants to feed off each other indefinitely.
The kicker had been that the symbiont was deadly to most other species, which had been the only reason the planet had not been overrun by invaders seeking a fountain of eternal youth. The planet was largely left alone and its race would flourish briefly before a cataclysmic meteor strike would turn everything to ash.
Good thing he had a time machine, and a hardy Time Lord constitution.
"Yes," he admitted softly, "you're right. I knew you had assumed otherwise. In fact, I was counting on it."
Surprise at his admission had her hands going limp in his hold. "But why? Why would you try to trick me? Were you really that hungry?"
"Don't you see, Donna? I found a way to give you a forever and I didn't ask because..." he whispered, bringing her hands to his chest.
Donna stared at him. She'd been so angry she hadn't thought about what it all meant - no aging, no dying, pretty much immortal as long as she stayed away from sharp sticks and slathered on the sunscreen. The realization of how utterly unlikely it was that this had all been coincidental hit her like a freight train. "We didn't land on the Planet of Eternal Night by accident, did we?"
"No," he said, plainly.
"You planned this."
"But how? Why?"
He sat up, and she shifted aside to let him do so. Upright, he made a futile move to smooth down his wrinkled suit jacket, and she noted the minute trembling of his fingertips.
"The Planet of Eternal Night was the only location of an organism that fully halts cellular degeneration. It also causes several mutations, mimicking something not unlike Time Lord regeneration - but using infusions of a non-host's life force to keep itself alive. However, the symbiont is also quite contagious. After a while, all the residents of the Planet had contracted it. The natives were, in essence, recycling the same life force, from one to the other, endlessly. If a meteor hadn't come along and wiped the planet out, they'd all still be there. Never changing, never creating new life, just recycling over and over. Quite an evolutionary dead end, but suitable enough for my purposes."
Donna's hands were unconsciously drawn back to her new fangs. "Why wouldn't they go from world to world, biting everyone?"
"What for? They were perfectly happy as they were. The symbiont doesn't need 'fresh' energy from anyone; any life force will do, which is why it could be recycled around by the same people. Not that a few Nighters didn't go out and explore - it's where all those vampire myths come from, after all - but they found that any other species that got bitten died. The symbiont had become so tuned to the Nighter's biology that it couldn't survive in different hosts."
"Yet here we are," she pointed out needlessly, pressing the tip of her thumb to a fang to test its sharpness.
"Yes, well, the symbiont hadn't met a Time Lord before!" he said, smugly. "I processed it through my body, making a few genetic tweaks along the way, added a little bit of Time Lordiness magic," he proudly emphasized that bit with spirit fingers, "to better mix with the remnants still in you. Et voilà! A Nighter symbiont mixed especially for one Donna Noble! S'why I had to have Henry bite me first."
She gaped at him for a moment, trying to process it all. "B-but you couldn't have known for sure you'd survive!"
He sniffed, half insulted. "Well, no, but...Time Lordiness!" he reminded her, more spirit fingers fluttering by her face, as if that explained everything.
She flushed with fury at the sheer idiocy of the gamble. "You. Great. Big . Time. Lord. IDIOT!" she shouted, punctuating words with hard slaps to his arm once more, killing another chance for spirit fingers. "You could have flippin' died, and yet you're proud of this!"
He expertly dodged as many smacks as he could. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be? It was a brilliant solution!"
Donna stopped her assault long enough to glare in complete exasperation. "One: you took a stupid risk! And, most importantly: choice, Doctor! How can you, of all people, not get that? It's about choices, and how you keep taking them from me and figuring it's okay since it all works out in the end. You aren't learning at all, are you!"
"But it does all work out in the end!"
"For you! What about me? What about what I want?"
The Doctor looked utterly flummoxed. "Is this not what you wanted? I-I thought you wanted to stay with me."
"Yes, but not...that doesn't mean it was up to you to change my species! It would serve you right if I left!"
"No, Donna, you can't!"
"Why not? And it better be a flippin' fantastic reason!" she raged.
"You couldn't feed off anyone else without killing them, for one."
"Yeah? Well I'm pretty sure Jack would let me take a nibble and test that theory out!"
"But Don-na! He would taste all wrong!"
She folded her arms over her chest, turning her nose up at him. "I guess that's a chance I'm just willing to take."
He dropped the cajoling whine. "You wouldn't really leave me, would you, Donna?" he asked, voice deep and serious.
"No," she admitted. "But you...you're so screwed up, you know? You give your enemies all the choices and chances in the world, but then you go out and make all these stupid decisions for the people you actually care about. It's this type of thing, Doctor, that I'm supposed to stop you from doing - being an almighty Time Lord who thinks he has the right to make these decisions for others. I'm not supposed to be the cause of you doing more stupid things."
He was quiet for what seemed an interminably long moment before raising dark, pleading eyes to her. "I know. You think I don't? You think I'm not aware that I'm rubbish without you? You're my last link to sanity, Donna. I'm hanging on by my fingertips here, and you're what keeps me from mucking everything up. I need you to stay. I need you forever."
Donna's mouth had gone utterly dry at his confession; it took her several tries to come back with anything to say. "That sounds a bit like emotional blackmail," she whispered.
His eyes closed in pain and guilt. "I know. I'm sorry."
"And what if you had died! What would I have done then!?"
He shrugged a shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes. "The TARDIS was programmed to take you back. You wouldn't have been stuck. And you know how to drive her well enough."
Donna reached up to grip her hair in frustration. "I'm not worried about getting home, you lump! Don't you get it? What do I do if you go off the deep end and do something else as idiotic as this - how am I supposed to go on if you die!?"
"How am I supposed to go on if you die?" echoed the Doctor back at her.
Donna stared at him before falling back on her heels, speechless for the first time, as everything clicked into place. He was as desperate not to be left behind as she was. She blinked rapidly to clear wayward tears, watching his slumped, defeated form. But she straightened her own shoulders and cleared her throat noisily. "Well, then," she said, loud enough to make the Doctor jump.
He tensed for rejection.
She put on her bravest face, although inside she was absolutely terrified, and continued, "Well, then, it's good I always planned to travel inside this tin box until you absolutely had to get rid of me, and now it looks like you've made that pretty impossible – so you're stuck with me now and I better not hear any complaining five hundred years from now. Because I've got all of eternity now to keep you on the straight and narrow, and don't for a second think I'll go easy on you!"
He jerked upright in shock, and disbelieving smile spreading across his face before he was throwing himself across the bed to glomp onto her, driving them both to tumble onto the mattress.
"Steady on, ferret face!" protested Donna, muffled against his neck as he squeezed her harder than she thought her ribs could take, vampire hardiness or no. She took a huge breath in an attempt to compensate, and froze.
"Oh, sorry! Sorry!" he laughed, giddy with relief, as he moved to set her free.
Except now Donna was holding on so tight, he couldn't really let go. "Donna?"
Her hands clenched tight round his back as she buried her nose behind his ear.
"Um, Donna?" he queried again.
He untangled her arms from him so he could ease back to look at her, all rumpled and dazed and flushed and delicious, her pupils dilated, gaze fixed on his throat in a glassy stare. He called her name several more times to no avail.
Concerned now, he patted her very lightly on the cheek.
Her hand flew up to grasp his wrist with her new lightning fast reflexes and he 'eeped' in surprise. Her lashes veiled her eyes as she brought his wrist to her nose, taking one long sniff before she moved her mouth to his pulse-point. She pressed her tongue to his skin and the Doctor felt all the blood in his head rush downward to his clenching stomach. He made a tiny sound of unmistakable want.
Donna's eyes snapped open at the telltale noise, the greenish blue brilliant as she smiled against his wrist. "Oh, so it's like that, is it?"
He groaned, deep and heartfelt, as she sucked lightly on the inside of his wrist. "What, my making you a vampire so you could stay with me forever wasn't a big enough clue?"
She reared up, releasing his wrist, and straddled him in order to push him pliantly onto his back. Then she was nuzzling his neck, taking deep breaths of his scent. He pulled her hips down so she settled on his quite obvious erection.
"But you said 'Just mates'?" she reminded him, wryly.
"I lied. I lie a lot."
She could hear the rapid double-beats of his hearts: all that lovely, potent blood flowing through his veins.
She was thirstier than she's been in her entire life, including that one time in Egypt where she lost her water bottle and refused to buy an overpriced replacement off the vendors on the street. It was like it had hit her all at once, as soon as she'd gotten the chance to feel his skin against hers and smelled his fabulous scent. Suddenly their argument seemed absolutely insignificant in the face of this thirst and the potent pheromones he gave off.
She nuzzled closer and set her lips to his throat. He groaned beneath her again and she forced herself still, until his hands wrapped hard around her waist and he muttered an anxious, "It's okay. Go ahead."
She opened her mouth and shyly, carefully pressed her fangs to the fragile skin. How did you even bite someone hard enough to draw blood but not enough to maim? she wondered fleetingly, before some type of instinct took over and she was pressing down enough for her fangs to pierce skin, blood welling immediately into her mouth.
It tasted divine! Sweet and salty all at once; not the viscous metal she'd imagined. It was warm sunshine going down her throat, hitting her stomach. But the sunshine traveled even lower until it pooled in more intimate places, sparking off all those nerve endings that made her feel hot and tight. The Doctor was making strained, whimpering noises beneath her, hands pressing her down hard against him. She rubbed against him so that pleasure built, full-bodied, and she was coming hard even as that same ingrained instinct had her disengaging her fangs so she wouldn't take too much.
The ecstasy held her suspended for a span of an endless heartbeat before she collapsed on the Doctor, dizzy and reeling from the orgasm. The dizziness wasn't helped by being jostled with the rapid rising and falling of the Doctor's chest beneath her as he took in great gasping lungfulls of air.
"Does it always feel that way? Like a nuclear explosion in your pants?" she asked muzzily.
His labored breathing turned into a high-pitched giggle. "An explosion in your pants?"
She smacked his side halfheartedly with a languid hand. No energy for more just now. "Yeah. Did Henry rock your pinstripes when he bit you?"
"No. Felt nothing like this. This is all me."
That most definitely required a response of some type, so she garnered enough energy to raise up to look him in the face, doubtful. "Riiiight. Is this your way of trying to convince me not to test it out on Jack?"
"Doc-tor!" she mimicked.
The Doctor's arms flew up to press her down so she fell flat onto his chest again with an "oof", face squished against his shoulder so she couldn't talk. "No, really. It's my fault. I'm apparently rubbish at keeping my psychic barriers up while we're feeding. My feelings flood over into you."
She poked him in the side sharply enough for him to loosen his hold so she could sit up, bracing her hands on his chest. "So you really have been this horny over me all this time?"
He balked. "Well, don't put it like that!"
Donna snickered, and continued to poke him mercilessly until he was twisting under her. "The randy old Doctor, after my poor innocent body all along!" she singsonged, evading his attempts to grab her hands.
"I'll make sure to work harder at keeping my barriers controlled," he assured her stiffly, affronted
She snorted and got in one last poke before allowing herself to be pulled back down. "Don't you dare!"
"What, after all your complaining?"
"Oh, I'm not complaining!" she assured him as she started to work his shirt buttons loose. "In fact, I say we see just how completely we can get those barriers
to drop, shall we?" she asked cheekily before gleefully settling lower to find other places to...nibble.
Several hours later...
A seasoned CSI investigator would have blanched at the sight —- it looked as if a bloody war had been waged in the room. Crimson splattered the white linens on the bed in interesting patterns. In the middle of the bed lay the pale, nude form of the Doctor, blank, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling, the most blood splattered one of all.
No sound. Donna nudged a cold, unresponsive shoulder with a sharp finger. She may have gone a bit overboard, but it was harder than it looked, not making a mess!
"Doctor." He didn't blink, nor did his naked chest raise with a breath.
"Whaaaaat?" he whined, finally, eyes blinking glassily as he took one wheezy breath. "Can't a man bask in the afterglow?"
"You aren't a man," Donna snickered. "You're a Spacetianamp."
The Doctor managed a headtilt. "Is that a new type of lamp from Ikea?"
"It's a Space Martian Vampire, your new nickname." At his unimpressed look, Donna sighed, insulted. "Okay, look, you may think coming up with snappy nicknames is easy, but it's not, and I'm trying my best."
"It would probably help if you got rid of the Martian part, since I'm not from Mars, as well you know."
"You're awfully snappy for a Spacetianamp who was supposedly basking," she noted, running a hand through her tangled hair, unconcerned by her own nudity.
"No, seriously, please no."
"Vamptian? Spacevamp? Martianire?"
"No, no and no. Especially when I know exactly what you should call me."
"And what's that? Because it's not going to be 'love stallion' no matter what I may have said under the influence."
"No, I was thinking maybe...husband?" he queried tentatively.
"...oh. Oh!" Donna's blue-green eyes went wide with distress. The room reeled around her a little and she had to clutch onto the sheets to keep from keeling right over.
"Should I be insulted that you seem more bothered by the idea of marriage to me than by an unplanned change in species?" the Doctor asked haltingly.
The Doctor sat up stiffly, snagging a pillow to cover himself, feeling very vulnerable in the face of her obvious disgust at the idea of marriage.
"Yes, Donna, marriage," he mocked, in the same exaggerated tone.
Donna plucked at the bloodstained sheets, casting him one nervous sideways glance as she took in the hurt undertones in his voice. "I... Doctor, it's not you, it-"
"By Rassilon, if you actually say 'it's not you, it's me' I will save you the trouble and stake myself!"
"Oh, Doctor. I have such very bad luck with weddings," she whispered, eyes wide.
The insulted line of his shoulders dropped at her scared tone. "It wouldn't be the same," he assured her.
"No, but, you see, Lance wanted to feed me to a spider. I mean, what are the odds, right? And then Shawn - he was a real decent bloke, Doctor, honest - and I just messed it up. Aren't we good like this?"
"You did promise me forever."
"You're getting it in spades. A real forever now, thanks to you. Isn't that enough?"
"No, it never does seem to be, with you," he mused.
"What's that mean?" said Donna, hands still restlessly twisting the bed sheets into knots.
He watched her nervous hands for one long, silent moment. Then he pulled himself closer to her and trapped their movement with his. Without thought, her hands turned and their fingers laced, and the completely natural feeling of it gave him the strength for honesty.
"At first I thought, if I could just get you back. Fix you, get you back on the TARDIS. Oh, wouldn't it be grand! The Doctor and Donna, partners in crime back on track. My best mate and I on a tour of the Universe. What great fun! And it was, it was wonderful fun. It is wonderful fun. But then...then I thought, what happens when Donna gets older? How long do I really have?"
He looked up from their joined hands to catch her green gaze with his. She blinked in understanding. "Not that long. Not forever. Not your forever," Donna clarified with sympathy. "But that's when you find someone else."
"No," he said simply. "No one else, not anymore. I don't want anyone else. So, genius that I am, I decided I would find a way to make your forever match mine."
His hands raised hers to his chest, and he squeezed them tightly. "But now, apparently, that's not enough either. Marry me."
"You don't need marriage to keep me, Doctor. I'm already here. I'm yours."
"I want it official. I want it known. I don't ever want to hear someone call us a couple and you say 'no, never, we aren't a couple.'"
"Oi! I recall you denying it just as much, mister. You were just as upset that they kept confusing us for a couple!"
"Yes, well, I was lying. I thought we established that I was a liar. Keep up, Donna."
She grabbed the pillow he was using to keep himself decent, and whacked him over the head with it. "Can we even get married? Like in a church and stuff, without the both of us bursting into flames?"
"We'd only burst into flames if we got married on the planet Volcanix, but why would you want to go there? The weather's positively atrocious." He blocked another pillow smack coming his way before pulling it from her hands, smiling, smug.
She rolled her eyes in aggravation. "No, you git. I mean, from us being vampires. You know, holy water, crosses, evil undead. All that stuff?"
"That's a myth, Donna."
"Well how the hell am I supposed to know anymore!" she waved her arms in aggravation, making her naked breasts bounce in a way the Doctor appreciated, thoroughly. Appreciated so much, in fact, that thought of all else was pushed aside, hands following what his eyes had greedily taken in.
And then it was all sighs and moans and trying to not get any more blood on the sheets, because surely the TARDIS wouldn't appreciate that. And at the end of everything, when Donna was screaming out "YES!" it was both in ecstasy and in agreement to becoming his wife.
Later, sated and sleepy in their new, clean room, Donna would threaten him with bodily harm if he didn't get her an absolutely ginormous ring, before falling asleep with one last snuggle as the Doctor grinned up at the ceiling.
As the final stop in what had turned out to be a six-month honeymoon tour, they went to Isis 25-X, renown for its secluded sandy beaches, tropical waters, and three brilliant turquoise suns on rotation through an amber sky.
Donna stood by the console, slathering on the special sunblock the Doctor had created for them. The Doctor and she had had no issues so far with sun in any other planet. But the UV spectrum of any given star was different, and every time they entered a new galaxy they had to be extra cautious.
The Doctor danced to the door and made sure to stand in the shadows as he flung them wide. He turned his head away and carefully stuck a little finger out into the sunlight.
No bursting into flames. Good sign. "We're good!" he proclaimed.
"You're bound to lose a pinky one day," noted Donna.
"I'll grow a new one."
Donna couldn't resist a naughty grin. "Oh really? Anything else you can grow a new one of? Do you take requests?"
He pointed his uninjured finger at her. "Behave! Now, c'mon," He grabbed Donna's arm and hauled her towards the doors.
"Wait, I'm not done with the sunscreen."
"I said we're fine; don't need the sunscreen!"
"Well, don't know if you've noticed but I'm still a redhead, and even if you claim it's impossible, I refuse to find out I'm not immune from freckles."
"But I love your freckles!"
"Don't you worry, there are still plenty of them for you to enjoy. Just don't plan on getting new ones."
She dug in her heels right at the door and he let her, too impatient to wait inside or explain, once again, how vampires couldn't really get new freckles. So he bounded out fully into the sunshine.
"Oooh, Donna, it's gorgeous; you'll love it!"
She finished rubbing the lotion onto her cleavage, exposed as it was by her swimsuit, and finally looked up just as she was getting ready to settle her sunglasses on her nose. She saw the Doctor standing right outside on soft white sand, in Bermuda shorts and an unopened, short-sleeved shirt she'd bullied him into wearing.
She gaped, spluttered, then dropped to the floor, laughing so hard her legs gave out.
"Donna?" the Doctor called, concerned, until he realized she wasn't going into a fit but was, in fact, laughing her figurative pants off. "What now?" he asked, aggrieved to be missing out on the joke.
"G-g-glittering! Glittery vampire!"
He frowned and looked about cautiously over his shoulder. "That's impossible. No such thing as glit-"
Donna cut him off by laughing harder and pointing at him. The Doctor gaped at her, then looked down at himself, his bare chest and legs and arms..
"Dear Rassilon's crooked cock, I am! Donna! Donna, I'm a glittery vampire!"
Donna rolled on the floor of the TARDIS, holding her sides. "Y-y-you totally are!"
The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he glared at his wife, before a smile broke through. Then he was bounding back inside just long enough to haul her up and drag her outside with him.
"As are you!" he stated, delighted.
Her laughter ended on a horrified screech. She looked down at her own sparkling bare arms and legs, then began to dance in place and smack her hands over herself, as if she could shake the glitter off. It stayed put. "Awww, fuck."
It was the Doctor's turn to laugh now, and he was still laughing as he dragged her down onto the soft sand to get his hands and mouth on all that gorgeous, shimmering cleavage. When he finally traveled up to her mouth, she wasn't cursing anymore.
This was supposed to be the end but then I wrote another part! Go to Part 3ish.