(no subject)
Entering now, from the back door, is a face unseen in a while. The Doctor shuffles in muttering, "Another Christmas, another crisis," and heads to the bar for some tea.
At this point, it's still a bit of a toss-up in his mind which was more difficult to deal with, the Rachnoss Queen, or that shrill and bossy Donna Noble. Which is, admittedly, a bit unfair, but he's tired. She did acquit herself fairly well, certainly better than most would have. And he did think she had enough potential to have invited her along. Just because she turned him down doesn't negate that.
He shrugs it off when the tea arrives. Onward and upwards, he supposes. On to the next thing. Well, in a bit, anyway.
At this point, it's still a bit of a toss-up in his mind which was more difficult to deal with, the Rachnoss Queen, or that shrill and bossy Donna Noble. Which is, admittedly, a bit unfair, but he's tired. She did acquit herself fairly well, certainly better than most would have. And he did think she had enough potential to have invited her along. Just because she turned him down doesn't negate that.
He shrugs it off when the tea arrives. Onward and upwards, he supposes. On to the next thing. Well, in a bit, anyway.