The thing is, Tinker never expected to marry. That she now finds herself with something of an instant family is no small source of wonder and confusion if she lets herself think about it much.

While she had been Donna, she had spent a lot of time anxious over dying alone, and she still isn't sure if that was some subconscious fear bleeding through the chameleon arch, or if it had been something Sylvia had bred into her with her harping. Another thing she still isn't sure how to feel about.

Looking at Mrs Donna Noble-Temple through the kitchen window brings out a certain amount of bewildered horror, a visceral reaction to seeing a version of herself married to someone not her husband.

The TARDIS, with this worlds Old Girl firmly in the repair dock within, is hidden as a green van in the drive right next to the Mott-Noble household. This version of Donna seems to be visiting with Wilf, her husband sitting at her side, though he seems to be paying the conversation no mind, a mobile in his hand that seems to have his entire attention.

He's attractive enough, Tink thinks to herself. She could have done worse, being married to a human.

"Is he your type, then?"

The Doctor's tone is enough to make her side-eye him. His lips are pursed and his arms are crossed over his chest defensively. It isn't a good look on him. She glances again at the couple in the window, not answering the question.

Shaun is looking at other-her, a soft look on his face that stirs something warm in Tink's chest. Other-her catches Shaun's look mid-sentence. She visibly stutters to a halt and blushes, before blustering at him with a barely hidden smile. It is pretty clear to Tink that Shaun loves his wife, and his wife loves him too.

"Yeah, actually, string-bean. A loving husband is in-fact my type." She mutters pointedly, silently daring him to comment.

There's a pregnant pause between them that stretches until it becomes something else. Tink is worried that she might have properly hurt his feelings and turns to look at him, only he doesn't look hurt. He's looking at her at her now, thoughtful and feeling a bit vulnerable.

The warmth blooming in her chest expands to fill her with a warmth so intense it stings as she exhales and brings tears to her eyes. This is the first time he has deliberately allowed her to sense any real vulnerability since he became aware of their bond.

"You're my type, Spaceman. Theta, for goodness sakes," she mutters with something that feels like relief and fond exasperation as she blinks away the moisture in her eyes and wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him in close. "I love you, you idiot."

"I- " The Doctor's voice is hoarse and cuts out, choked on emotions that he isn't used to expressing. He brings a hand to his mouth and coughs a couple of times, and Tink doesn't need to have their bond open to feel how he is struggling.

"I love you too, Donna. Tink. Tinker?"

She leans in and trills "Shani" in his ear with no hesitation when she realises that he is genuinely distressed that he doesn't know her given name. The Doctor freezes, then releases a huge breath, love flooding their connection.

"This feels a bit late in our acquaintance, but you can call me Donna if you want, or Tink."

The look he throws her for that comment, face all scrunched up and baffled is absolutely precious.

Before he can come up with any response, a loud knocking is heard. Eleven is up at the door, with Amy and Rory supposedly there for moral support.

They'd discussed it rather thoroughly, and decided that the natives of the universe would probably be the safest bet. The Donna from here has never seen any of those faces, so it isn't likely to set off her issues, but a few strategically chosen words should get Wilf in gear.

It does feel a little unfair, now that she's seen how other-her is with her husband, but she knows herself, and what she would want in that situation. She privately doubts that Eleven and other-her will have as easy a time getting along, never mind finding each other, as they had.

They watch silently as Eleven is greeted with some surprise and confusion at the door by an elderly looking Wilf. They exchange words, though Donna only catches 'Feldspoon' and Wilfs reaction to it.

The elderly man pales dramatically, his mouth slack in shock and he staggers against the door-frame, one hand on Eleven's arm keeping him standing as much as the wood at his back. There's a look on his face, intermingled with the shock, that Tink knows well. Confusion, his eyebrows drawn together and eyes just a little unfocused, trying to think something through. It sets a chill through her.

After a moment, filled non-stop with Eleven's excited chattering, Wilf nods and gathers himself. He isn't looking at Eleven, his watery blue eyes raking the ground as he thinks, and nods again.

Donna glances back at her other-self in the kitchen. The conversation still seems to be going strong, though other-her throws a few looks over her shoulder, probably trying to glimpse who's at the door and what the commotion is about.

It seems that Wilf wastes no time, and the next time Tink sees him, he is walking into the kitchen, ahead of Eleven and Co., with a familiar dusty box.

The following light-show is strange to watch from a third person perspective. She isn't terribly shocked that once Donna figures out who Eleven is, she socks him right in the mouth. There is an awful lot of shouting after that.

"I think that's our cue to leave, Darling," her husband prompts from her side, wiggling slightly in her tight grip and sending concerned looks towards the loud group, clearly not interested in staying and seeing the aftermath.

Tink rolls her eyes at his avoidance behaviour, but she is privately just as eager to get going. They have their own problems to deal with, and while a part of her would really like to see how this pans out, getting back to her kids weighs heavier. There's also The Surgeon to deal with. How exactly Martha is going to deal with her new situation will be interesting to see.