There was a petulant expression on his face, but she was laughing and that was worth every last disgusting bottle of ketchup in Canada. That youthful light in his eyes that she seemed so fond of only brightened further with the sound of joy lilting from her mouth. If they could just continue in this vein, it'd make the whole backwards situation that bit more bearable. Of course, the moment the smile started to inch its way across his mouth was the same instance she decided to mention Donna. The Doctor felt his expression tighten almost instantly. He went from a crooked smile into something less jovial and more bittersweet, a shadow lurking in his eyes when he cast them down and away.
There was a decision made in those fleeting seconds, a little white lie building on his tongue in the form of an answer. It wasn't entirely untrue. When he looked up from the table, the smile was replaced, false but passably there if she didn't look too hard to find the deception. “Good, she's good. Home, right now—with Wilf and her mum, some sort of Noble reunion in Birmingham last I checked,” he said, voice aiming for neutral but not quite hitting the mark.
He was out of practice.
“What about Jackie? Hands full with little Tony? Sure they're both keeping the Doctor on his toes,” he asked as casually as was possible when needling one's way through the back door to a question you weren't one hundred percent certain you wanted to ask, but felt compelled to anyway.