A/N: This is a ficlet for all those people still morning a truly perfect pairing from "Forest of the Dead."

In Another Life

"This song, it's so…familiar."

"It's been on the radio. Pretty popular, far as I reckon."

"No." Great heaping ginger curls fell into Donna's face as she shook her head. "No, that's not it."

"Katy Perry," her grandfather, Wilfred, continued. "Popular girl, Ms. Perry."

"No!" Donna insisted. "It seems – personal. Personal to me."

Wilf arched his brow. "Don' go tellin' me you got a tattoo now!"

Donna laughed, momentarily yanked from her daze as she playfully swatted at her granddad. "Course not!" She let her shoulders slag as she sighed and slunk deep into her seat. "I know it seems crazy, but I can't explain it. It's almost like – like a memory."

The car jerked to a stop, nearly rear ending the vehicle in front of them. Wilf gripped the wheel. "A m – memory?" he gasped.

Donna's face looked about the color of flour. "What the 'ell was that!" she barked.

Wilf smiled sheepishly. "Long day," he lied. "Guess the years are finally catchin' up with me, 'eh?"

"You want me to drive?"

"No, no," he said, shaking his head quickly. "I'm fine, I promise."

Donna looked at him skeptically as the car began to move again and after a while, she finally allowed her muscles to relax back to their pre-near-accident state. Finally, she opened her mouth, just a smidge. "Can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything, sweet'art," Wilf replied, almost laughing. "You know that."

"It's embarrassing. And stupid."

"Even so, you can tell me anything."

Donna pressed her hand to her forehead, shading her eyes shamefully. "It has to stay between us. No tellin' Mum and definitely not Shaun."

"Mum's the word."

Donna nodded and turned to stare out at the rolling scenery as she spoke: "Sometimes I have these dreams…"

The speed of the car fell, barely, almost imperceptibly. "Dreams?" Wilf echoed.

"Of a man."

"A man?"

"Yes." She absently gripped the armrest. "Tall, brown hair…"

"And?"

"And – and he's always in silhouette. I never get to see his face. But I see these flashes, these – these images."

"What kind of 'images'?"

"That's the worst part," Donna exhaled. "That's the part that makes me feel so guilty…"

"Guilty about what?"

"Guilty about Shaun." Donna closed her eyes. "I see this man and I…with a family. Twins: a girl and a boy. I can't see their faces either, but I know that's what they are. And I see images of our wedding day, with him carrying me across the threshold."

"They're just dreams, Donna," Wilf assuaged. He sounded somewhat relieved, like cool water on a burn. "You can't help what you dream about."

"I hear him. The man in my dreams, he speaks to me. I don't know his name, but I remember his voice, like it's been etched into my mind, my s – See? It's crazy, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"It's probably just your subconscious. You and Shaun have been wanting a baby, right? That's probably why."

"But-" Her voice stopped short and she piled her hands into her lap dejectedly. "The dreams feel so real, like if only I could scratch back this invisible barrier, I could just understand."

"In another life…"

Wilf lifted one hand from the steering wheel to pat his granddaughter on the shoulder. "Don't think about it too much, it'll just make your head hurt. Trust me."

Donna pressed her hand to her granddad's, holding his to her shoulder. She exchanged a soft smile. "You're probably right."

"This old man does have his moments."

"You were the one that got away…"

Wilf pulled his hand away, turning its attention to the knob on the radio in order to banish the song before it could finish.

Donna turned her head to face him, with one of those looks that he could only describe as so sad, though she couldn't remember why. "The man in my dreams," she whispered. "He – he had a stutter."