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Sep. 8th, 2012 05:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stole_a_time_lordHonestly, does he think she turns warning lights on for her health?
Well, actually, that's exactly why she does it. Her health, his health, the health of the pretty one and the orangey girl.
She doesn't just gad about, turning on warning lights on a whim.
But, no. He won't bother to figure out why she might be turning them on, never mind making them blink. He'll just complain about them and hit the console and kick things.
Which will hardly help with anything at all.
And then he'll wander off to check his post.
In three . . .
two . . .
one . . .
"I've got mail!"
And now, now he just wants to pop out of the universe for a moment.
It's really very difficult. And unsettling.
After all, how would he feel if she decided it was quite all right to burn up his swimming pool and scullery and seventh squash court?
Oh, wait. He doesn't have any of those, does he?
Anyway, they're gone now, without so much as a by your leave.
Ah, well. She'll just have to put the archive back in order later.
Sooner.
One or the other.
At some point when they're not . . . when they're not . . .
When they're . . .
When she's . . .
Well.
This is new.
This is different.
This is where she's never, ever been.
She's gone all . . . squishy. Squishysquashysoft.
She's got hands.
Look at that.
Hands.
And fingers.
Lots of fingers.
And teeth. New teeth. That's weird. Teeth at all. That's weird.
Oh, the possibilities of teeth.
And hair. The hair. It just doesn't stop, does it?
And legs. Legs, now those are important, or so she thinks.
There's something very important with legs. What is it?
And do you move them both at once or one after the other?
Whoops, wobble. That was a wobble, wasn't it?
She's gone all wobbly.
That's her.
Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.
Up-and-downy stuff in a big blue box.
No, not in a box.
In a party dress.
With legs.
And those are important.
But why are they important?
Ah, yes.
Because of the running.
There's a ridiculous amount of running.
She should get on that.
No time like the present.
Well, actually, that's exactly why she does it. Her health, his health, the health of the pretty one and the orangey girl.
She doesn't just gad about, turning on warning lights on a whim.
But, no. He won't bother to figure out why she might be turning them on, never mind making them blink. He'll just complain about them and hit the console and kick things.
Which will hardly help with anything at all.
And then he'll wander off to check his post.
In three . . .
two . . .
one . . .
"I've got mail!"
And now, now he just wants to pop out of the universe for a moment.
It's really very difficult. And unsettling.
After all, how would he feel if she decided it was quite all right to burn up his swimming pool and scullery and seventh squash court?
Oh, wait. He doesn't have any of those, does he?
Anyway, they're gone now, without so much as a by your leave.
Ah, well. She'll just have to put the archive back in order later.
Sooner.
One or the other.
At some point when they're not . . . when they're not . . .
When they're . . .
When she's . . .
Well.
This is new.
This is different.
This is where she's never, ever been.
She's gone all . . . squishy. Squishysquashysoft.
She's got hands.
Look at that.
Hands.
And fingers.
Lots of fingers.
And teeth. New teeth. That's weird. Teeth at all. That's weird.
Oh, the possibilities of teeth.
And hair. The hair. It just doesn't stop, does it?
And legs. Legs, now those are important, or so she thinks.
There's something very important with legs. What is it?
And do you move them both at once or one after the other?
Whoops, wobble. That was a wobble, wasn't it?
She's gone all wobbly.
That's her.
Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.
Up-and-downy stuff in a big blue box.
No, not in a box.
In a party dress.
With legs.
And those are important.
But why are they important?
Ah, yes.
Because of the running.
There's a ridiculous amount of running.
She should get on that.
No time like the present.