Disclaimer: if I get these characters for Christmas, they become officially mine!
A/N: written for hc_bingo and first posted on tumblr for a kind Anon.

Morning Surprise

.

The first thing he noticed was a loud scream, closely followed by, "Doctor!"

It tore through his brain as he fought to become fully awake. Grabbing hold of the top sheet covering him, he threw it aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to clamber out. That was the precise moment he noticed the strange legs in his bed.

His eyes stared at the long, feminine legs adorning his bottom sheet. What the…? It took a few nanoseconds to mentally switch from "who is in my bed?" to "these legs are attached to me!"

Confusion warred with horror to be the uppermost emotion in his head, but curiosity eventually won, and he hastily stood to find out how much of the rest of him was now female. Instantly, he lost balance and had to grab the bedpost to steady himself. Okay, that was new, he noted. What else had changed. Apart from the change in height and the frontal appendages throwing off his centre of gravity, that is.

Holding up his hands meant that he was met with smooth, non-hairy skin. That wasn't the only weird thing. His fingers were shorter, and the nails adorned with a vivid purple nail varnish. Very tasteful and also quite familiar. If he didn't know any better, he'd say they belonged to Donna.

'Donna,' he suddenly thought, and snapped his head to look in the mirror hanging on his wardrobe. The large frightened eyes of Donna Noble gazed back at him rather than his usual reflection.

A wail of grief rose up from his throat but somebody else beat him to it. From afar, he heard his voice cry out in mental pain. That meant that he probably sounded like her in return. Well, he wouldn't know until he tried, so he opened his mouth. "Donna! Are you me?"

"No, I'm the Pope," a snarky voice replied from somewhere close outside his bedroom door. "Of course I'm you, you idiot! Who else would I be in this stupid scenario?"

"It isn't necessarily stupid," he tried to appease her. "This is a fantastic learning opportunity."

It was as if he'd released the Furies, so strong was the whirlwind that suddenly appeared in his room. Still just as angry in my body, he noted when Donna turned out to be the epicentre.

"Learning? Learning! I'll give you learning, you long streak of…," she began to rage.

So he deliberately and coyly batted his eyelashes at her. "That's no way to talk to a lady."

For a split second he thought she might laugh. Alas, she didn't. "Just because you've hijacked my body doesn't mean I won't wallop you one," she threatened instead.

Oh, she really wasn't going to thump him. Yet. "Nevertheless, a gentleman does not hit a woman."

"A gentleman would have to actually find a real woman first," she sneered.

How could she think he wasn't real? This would need drastic measures, he decided, so he grasped his hands to his chest. "I assure you these are very real."

"Get your filthy hands off my breasts!" she yelled loudly. "I knew it! I knew you've been looking for a way to touch me up."

Looking down at himself, he had to partially agree; and slowly lowered his erroneous hands. "My apologies. I didn't mean to… you know. If it's any consolation, please feel free to explore my body in a similar way."

"No thanks. I'd rather not," she blustered as a crimson blush spread across her cheeks.

"Honestly, in all fairness, you should."

"Let's cross that bridge when we have to." She then blew out her cheeks in embarrassment. "Well, this is awkward. Any idea what's happened?"

"We've swapped bodies."

"No kidding, Sherlock. I'd have never guessed if I hadn't been here for this bit," she sarcastically answered. "At least we were both wearing pyjamas when it happened. Good job we weren't in the bath or something."

"B..b..bath," he stammered, suddenly struck by the mental image. "Yes, very fortunate." He soon found that rubbing your neck for comfort when there's a whole load of hair in the way is nowhere near as satisfying.

On the other hand, the hair was deliciously ginger and for several moments he got completely caught up on that idea. Combing his fingers through his newly acquired long ginger locks was a newfound pleasure.

It was evidently obvious to all and sundry because Donna suddenly asked him, "Do you want me to leave you alone with my hair for a moment? At least I know you can only touch it with a brush rather than some kinky part of your body, I suppose."

His fingers immediately stopped their journey of homage, and he guiltily flushed. "No, I was…" He delicately coughed. "Anyway, perhaps we should have some breakfast. Give the old brain some food for thoughts."

"And prolong the need to get dressed yet," she knowingly added, bringing up her hands to grasp her middle. "You could also do with a few more pounds here."

"Don't even think of ruining my sleek lines," he huffed in warning. "Although, to be fair, my metabolism allows me to eat what I want without putting on weight."

"Technically it's my metabolism now," she pointed out as they began walking towards the kitchen. "Which means that I get the benefit of all that."

"You mean I've got to diet?" he gasped. "How shaming. Can I skip all the healthy option stuff you normally have for breakfast? I fancy something meaty."

It was on the tip of Donna's tongue to make a joke about what type of meat her body would crave but felt it was best not to make a sex reference in the strange circumstances. Even though they'd reached the kitchen and were bustling about collecting breakfast items; well away from the risky bedroom. Instead, she countered the remark with, "Funny you should say that, because I fancy some fruit." She then deliberately ran her tongue along her lips before adding, "Pears in particular."

His wheeze of horror was totally worth it. "Donna, I beg you, please don't eat pears. That sort of taste lingers for months and I detest them."

"Do you?" she feigned ignorance. "Alright then, I'll avoid them. For now. Just treat my body with some respect while you've got it. This is a temporary share rather than a weekly rental, isn't it?"

"I don't know," he quietly confessed. "How, or why this happened to us is beyond me at the moment. I'll need your help with sorting this out because my normal brain functions have gone AWOL for some reason, and I'm left with this inferior set of cognitive skills." Noticing the glare that was now bombarding him, he tactfully continued, "No offence meant and all that."

"None taken," she stiffly answered. "As if I would. But Doctor, if you can't figure this out, who will?"

"Well, you," he cautiously replied.

"Me?!" She was stunned for some moments. "We're doomed," she mumbled into her tea mug.