Donna Noble thinks she has found quite a good friend in Troy (McHansen, she thinks he said it is). She didn’t expect to befriend the sad young bloke on the phone, but he was so pouty and alone she just sort of had to. She had invited him to go chip wagon hunting with her, which resulted in quite a wonderful time for the both of them.
Donna is quite fond of Troy, really. He’s a sweet guy, who has been a genuine companion in her everyday life. He comes over for tea, with her and Gramps (only if Sylvia isn’t home). Troy might be young, all floppy brown hair—big green eyes and silly bow ties. He’s a good one, though.
Troy is quite mysterious, she finds. He doesn’t tell her much, for all that he talks. Sometimes he’ll say something small, that carries a lot of his sadness in it. There’s so much sadness in him she doesn’t know how he can bear it. Sometimes she’ll say something and he’ll get that mushy look on his face, or get kind of skittish when avoiding telling her where he lives gets harder.
Nobody knows why the friendship works, but it really does. Donna’s friends - particularly Nerys - think he must be up to something unsavory to be attached to Donna the way he is. He calls them “unpleasant lady folk” when he hears this. Admittedly Troy is a better friend to her than Nerys, her maid of honor, ever was. She wonders why that is, sometimes.
Donna doesn’t talk about her divorce, but admitted to Troy on a chilly evening that he couldn’t take how she got migraines, and drifted off, and sometimes had hallucinations. She said she can’t blame him for not being able to take it. Troy kept silent. However, when Shaun Temple comes round (with some audacity to do so, mind you) Donna swears Troy is ready to commit murder. There’s a dark, frightening look Troy can get. It makes him look centuries older, and she calls it the Brooding Storm look. She’s never scared of it, though. In a way, she finds it comforting. Shaun was plenty scared of it. All men are scared of it. Donna compares it to a puppy growling at strangers.
The way Troy cares for her blows Donna away. Sometimes he looks at her like she’s…some sort of miracle, or something—like she’s the most important thing in the whole world. Fleetingly, she might have thought if he fancied her on the odd occasion. He does love her, and she knows she loves him, somewhere in her single beating heart. It’s like feeling as if you’ve known someone for your whole life, with her and him.
Troy and Gramps whisper together a lot. It’s like they know each other from a long time ago, too. Troy whispers slowly, and Donna thinks he sounds like his lips are always a little bit pursed. Gramps assures him that she’s okay. Troy makes a soft sound of declaration. She fades out.
Waking up from a migraine that spurred some odd, blurry nightmares, Donna remembers: it’s her birthday. Troy is coming over to take her out for lunch. Gramps must have laid her down to nap off the headache. When she looks around there’s a haphazard bunch of wildflowers sticking out of some trinket Sylvia got from some tacky shop. The flowers make it look much better. Troy must have left them for her, she smiles.
She never gets to read the card, clasped in his pocket, with his Sonic Screwdriver.
To the most important woman in the whole wide universe,
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