[ Whether the younger Doctor has trotted off for a quick lunch or a department meeting, he will find that his work area is now occupied by a very familiar face.
There, seated on top of The Doctor’s desk, is the older time lord doing something has hardly ever heard done before: laughing out loud. His expression doesn’t quite match his more formal attire, looking more like a silly magician having a tea break. He's laughing with a couple of individuals who the younger Doctor might recognize to be co-workers. ]
You should’ve seen him when he was in his nappies. Such a tiny little thing. About the size of his favourite Binky Bear that he still likes to cuddle. Has he ever told you the time when he got his foot stuck inside the toilet?
[ Next to The Doctor is a small blue leather bag resting on top of his supposed child’s desk. What’s inside? Who knows! ]
Thought that there was a monster inside waiting to munch people up when they least expect it. Such a clever and brave child, but not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box.
[ The experience of having a very dad-like dad is a new one, that's for sure. And come to think of it, he's certain now that he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it in the same way he didn't like the idea of having an aunt.
His workmates have surrounded themselves around his older self, his 'father', and are laughing at the embarrassing tales that he's gone and made up which are very uncool, and before the Doctor (this one) can keep from saying anything, he blurts out a petulant: ] Oy! That's not even true!
[ He steps into the fray and tugs at the other Doctor's arm, pulling him out from the spotlight to a few jeers and cheers and 'awws'. ]
Did we arrange a meeting? [ He's straight up gone and forgotten his cover for a moment, or maybe he's method-acting more than ever as some fleshy, over-emotional humany son. ] What are you doing here?
[ Trust him. This is, by all accounts, a very awkward moment for the Doctor. But any chance he gets to be a self-deprecating goblin towards his previous regenerations is like having a fresh bag of crisps. Once he pops one in his mouth, he just can’t stop.
So when he is being tugged by his undercover, noodly “son” — He doesn’t break character, opening his face to be that of a perfectly normal middle-aged humanoid. ]
What else? I’m on break. Can’t a father pay his child of a little over fifty years a visit?
[ He turns around to rummage through his own bag. ]
Don’t worry! I know you’ve plenty of important business to take care of. But I wanted to make sure you’ve got everything you need.
Fifty! [ There's a petulant little huff that can really only be achieved by a son with an overly embarrassing father. So one might even say he's achieving his cover again with great success. ] Oy, I'll have you know I'm a spry twenty-something at least.
[ That's ... about the age he should be, right? It seems young-ish. Young but not too young, older than an infant to be sure — he really takes a moment to recall how old Amy Pond had been when she first started traveling with him. That's about the sort of age he's trying to be right now. And he thinks he's succeeding, even about to explain it just a little further when the other Doctor starts to dig around in the bag he's got with him.
[ It's said as he starts to pull his ugly-as-sin jumper on, momentarily blind as the fabric covers his face and then once he's pulled his head through, he flaps his arms through the appropriate holes. There is such a distinct lack of grace, like a giraffe pulling on a tea-cozy, but eventually the Doctor rights himself and speeds up his pace. ]
Don't remember what having a dad is like, but I suppose we did all right, didn't we? And I do hope you really do have a food tablet in there somewhere.
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[ action ] | govt. office bldg
There, seated on top of The Doctor’s desk, is the older time lord doing something has hardly ever heard done before: laughing out loud. His expression doesn’t quite match his more formal attire, looking more like a silly magician having a tea break. He's laughing with a couple of individuals who the younger Doctor might recognize to be co-workers. ]
You should’ve seen him when he was in his nappies. Such a tiny little thing. About the size of his favourite Binky Bear that he still likes to cuddle. Has he ever told you the time when he got his foot stuck inside the toilet?
[ Next to The Doctor is a small blue leather bag resting on top of his supposed child’s desk. What’s inside? Who knows! ]
Thought that there was a monster inside waiting to munch people up when they least expect it. Such a clever and brave child, but not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box.
no subject
[ The experience of having a very dad-like dad is a new one, that's for sure. And come to think of it, he's certain now that he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it in the same way he didn't like the idea of having an aunt.
His workmates have surrounded themselves around his older self, his 'father', and are laughing at the embarrassing tales that he's gone and made up which are very uncool, and before the Doctor (this one) can keep from saying anything, he blurts out a petulant: ] Oy! That's not even true!
[ He steps into the fray and tugs at the other Doctor's arm, pulling him out from the spotlight to a few jeers and cheers and 'awws'. ]
Did we arrange a meeting? [ He's straight up gone and forgotten his cover for a moment, or maybe he's method-acting more than ever as some fleshy, over-emotional humany son. ] What are you doing here?
no subject
So when he is being tugged by his undercover, noodly “son” — He doesn’t break character, opening his face to be that of a perfectly normal middle-aged humanoid. ]
What else? I’m on break. Can’t a father pay his child of a little over fifty years a visit?
[ He turns around to rummage through his own bag. ]
Don’t worry! I know you’ve plenty of important business to take care of. But I wanted to make sure you’ve got everything you need.
no subject
[ That's ... about the age he should be, right? It seems young-ish. Young but not too young, older than an infant to be sure — he really takes a moment to recall how old Amy Pond had been when she first started traveling with him. That's about the sort of age he's trying to be right now. And he thinks he's succeeding, even about to explain it just a little further when the other Doctor starts to dig around in the bag he's got with him.
This Doctor waits. ]
What is it?
no subject
[ He whips around to reveal the gaudiest, pastel jumper one can fathom. ]
Your favourite jumper! It’s raining outside. I can’t have you catching cold. Not when you’re doing such a stand-up job here.
no subject
And he can usually get behind some rather colourful, odd choices for clothing, but this — no, even the Doctor has his limits. ]
Where did you get that eyesore with sleeves, eh?
[ All right, it does look a little cozy though. ]
Not that I'm — oy, I'm doing a perfectly fine job of not catching colds or anything otherwise. One sneeze, remember, one sneeze and this is it for me.
no subject
Wear the jumper, me. Your dear dad put a lot of thought into that. ]
Yes, yes! One sneeze. Six feet tall and can’t even hold a cold without exploding into a million particles. That’s why I’m here.
[ One look left and right. The Doctor's co-workers are eyeing in their general direction. Best if they take it somewhere private.
He waves himself down to follow. ]
C’mon then! A quick pop outside first for a food tablet. And you can get back to whatever important business you have going around.
no subject
[ It's said as he starts to pull his ugly-as-sin jumper on, momentarily blind as the fabric covers his face and then once he's pulled his head through, he flaps his arms through the appropriate holes. There is such a distinct lack of grace, like a giraffe pulling on a tea-cozy, but eventually the Doctor rights himself and speeds up his pace. ]
Don't remember what having a dad is like, but I suppose we did all right, didn't we? And I do hope you really do have a food tablet in there somewhere.