for man_outof_time NC-17
If anyone asked, the Doctor was in the bar. If his Eighth self asked, he was no where near the place.
He was being good though, he was nursing a non-alcoholic ginger ale at the moment. Perhaps his Eighth self would be rather proud of him. He'd worked out why he'd begun drinking like this. For the first time in his lives, he couldn't do anything.
He didn't like it.
He didn't like being ineffectual.
He was rebuilding his sonic screwdriver, slowly but surely. It kept him occupied for a few hours, he'd even begun sleeping for twenty minutes a day. He'd say it was something that would kill the endless monotony. But really, only his other incarnation, and sometimes Jack were ever up at those ungodly hours.
The Doctor took another sip of his confection, staring off into space and wondering if it were possible to train him to sleep like the rest of the humans, at least 1/3 of the day.
He was being good though, he was nursing a non-alcoholic ginger ale at the moment. Perhaps his Eighth self would be rather proud of him. He'd worked out why he'd begun drinking like this. For the first time in his lives, he couldn't do anything.
He didn't like it.
He didn't like being ineffectual.
He was rebuilding his sonic screwdriver, slowly but surely. It kept him occupied for a few hours, he'd even begun sleeping for twenty minutes a day. He'd say it was something that would kill the endless monotony. But really, only his other incarnation, and sometimes Jack were ever up at those ungodly hours.
The Doctor took another sip of his confection, staring off into space and wondering if it were possible to train him to sleep like the rest of the humans, at least 1/3 of the day.