The fifteenth version of the Doctor, a loose-limbed, tall, gangly librarian type, seemingly fifty years of age, rushed into the kitchen. Despite having heard the wheeze of his beloved TARDIS, it was not here. The Doctor stopped. Despite his previous version, as a very short Asian-type woman, having transitioned in a healthy manner, he was still not quite used to this body. It was so bloody tall. Short had gained her some advantages in the past, she had hidden in Dalek shells, had crawled through the systems of a billion year old Earth colony ship and had hidden in the walls of the Lincoln Memorial when it had been on Neptune for eight weeks. Almost had banged his head eight times coming out of the TARDIS. Didn't want to ask the old girl to grow taller, that would be rude. Anyway, the Doctor gave himself a good shake. Time to rely on more than just the senses his human companions use...ah, there's the old girl. In the supply closet.
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11/1/2018 1:48:58 AM
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