mortal friends and mortal enemies: the intervention
Something had to give.
The Doctor had been holding off for far too long, had been thrown so badly by the whole damned switch business that there was nothing for it but to get his house in order. The damage that could have been done had the Master exploited the situation was something that weighed too heavily on his mind. He knew, then and there, that there could be no more waiting and sitting on it, and no more blank slate bollocks.
Waiting around would get people killed, at this rate.
Setting down his book, he slowly slid to his feet, taking off his specs and heading towards the door. He knew where to find someone who'd help him and someone who'd understand. This had to end now.
A premonition, maybe. Or maybe just paranoia.
The Doctor had been holding off for far too long, had been thrown so badly by the whole damned switch business that there was nothing for it but to get his house in order. The damage that could have been done had the Master exploited the situation was something that weighed too heavily on his mind. He knew, then and there, that there could be no more waiting and sitting on it, and no more blank slate bollocks.
Waiting around would get people killed, at this rate.
Setting down his book, he slowly slid to his feet, taking off his specs and heading towards the door. He knew where to find someone who'd help him and someone who'd understand. This had to end now.
A premonition, maybe. Or maybe just paranoia.