damned_institute | Night 47: West Wing, South Hall 1-B

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Night 47: West Wing, South Hall 1-B

( from here. )

So far, so good. Kairi tried to move as quietly as she could, not wanting to attract any kind of baddies that could be lurking in the shadows. ... And lest she forget actually crazy patients. Then again, she doubted she'd ever forget that incident.

Oh well, she was almost there. No time to think about past injuries.

( to here. )

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By the time Donna had gotten to dinner, she'd hoped to have straightened Arlene out at least a little bit. That woman hadn't been one Donna would have thought would sulk, but she'd definitely been wrong before. Not often, but she still had.

Meche didn't get an earful about that whole mess though since Donna had been late in getting back to her room. Just as she'd started to eat, it was time to go. Good, she wasn't all that hungry anyway, especially since she'd eaten her fill of the real lunch food. And she wanted to get thing done quickly, so all for the better. Grabbing her usual coat she headed out. Arlene was probably off running around instead of sulking, or at least Donna hoped she was after their little talk, so she decided not to go see how he friend was doing. Also, with Meche leaving before her, Donna had no real plans for the night or people to meet up with. Hadn't stopped her before though.

"Least the hallways'll never change on you," she muttered absently as she came to the door leading out of the women's block. Flashlight ahead of her, she entered the next hallway.

The Doctor had the unfortunate luck of having been looking straight ahead into the hall just as a torch was being pointed out of it. He winced, ducking his head to the side as his vision immediately went spotty as a result of the light. Making a noise of protest, he held up a hand to block the light from doing any further damage.

Before getting a face-full of light, he thought he'd heard Donna's voice. Maybe she was the owner of the torch; the light itself certainly had enough attitude for it.

Oh, was that another idiot who just stood waiting for someone to bother? If it was that idiot from those nights ago...

But the sound he made was oddly familiar. Not in the same way as someone Donna didn't want to see (and also wanted to strangle), but in that "oh there you are!" way. What he was doing there, she didn't know, but there was some satisfaction in having blinded him. Served him right for just standing there.

"Turned into a night guard, have you?" she quipped, placing her hands onto her hips.

Ah, so it was Donna. Now that the light wasn't shining in his eyes any more, he blinked a few times as the spots started clearing from his vision.

"Maybe I have," he answered with a smile, dropping the hand that had been shielding his eyes to his side and sliding it into his trousers pocket. "I've got a torch, free run of the building.... All I need now is a uniform, and maybe some keys. Keys would be nice since I don't have my sonic screwdriver."

The radio at his feet was picking up a broadcast now, with a woman listing off some kinds of clues. The Doctor glanced down at it, and the stooped over to pick it up, tucking it under his arm when he straightened.

"Besides apparently guarding the hallway, I was waiting for you."

"Uniform, sure..." Donna pursed her lips at that and looked him over in the dim light. That certainly didn't look like the normal attire for this place, and it definitely wasn't the coat Donna had thrown on herself before leaving the room. Not a uniform, but also not something Donna was exactly happy to see him wearing.

"So... what's that there, if you don't mind my asking?" she questioned, turning the torch light onto his outfit, "Because it looks an awful lot like your usual, and I know you couldn't have put that together in arts and crafts."

Donna's attention went to the radio for a second as it went off, but was quickly back on the man, demanding with her expression an answer that had best be a good one, because so help her if he'd found the TARDIS without telling her first...!

The Doctor beamed when Donna pointed out what he was wearing. "It is my usual-- I found them in my closet the other night," he answered. "'course, they may just be replicas or else they've been modified; the pockets are too small, and everything I had in them is missing. Oh, except--!"

He cut off mid-sentence, stashing his torch in a coat pocket. It stuck out at an awkward angle as he reached into his coat to pull out his glasses. He unfolded them and slid them on in a smooth motion, grinning.

"I've got my specs back!"

Of course he'd be happy to have his outfit back. Donna would have been thrilled herself, but for him to get it and her not to just made Donna mad. She was the one who had wanted out of the gaudy gray outfits since getting there whereas the Doctor had probably enjoyed them! The smiley face did suit him wonderfully.

The Doctor's moment of glee was interrupted as Donna stepped up and snatched the specs straight from his face. "Look here," she snapped, folding up the specs in her hand and waving them threateningly as though she might ram them through his eye at a moment's notice, "I'm in no less than a bathrobe! You really think it's a good idea for you to be smiling at me for getting your stuff back? Hm?" Her head tilted off while her eyes stared him down, daring him to attempt to argue with her.

The Doctor quickly adopted a serious face. He knew that tone of voice, and maybe it would not be best to poke the proverbial bear right now.... Not when she had gotten on the subject of (her) clothes and had his specs and had a torch that she could decide to shine in his eyes again at any second.

"Sorry," he said, straightening slightly. "I was just-- Sorry. Did you check your closet lately? Maybe you've got some of your own clothes in there."

He paused for a pair of heartbeats. "Can I have my glasses back?"

Edited 2010-02-28 03:33 (UTC)

Pressing her lips, Donna pulled the glasses back. She'd gotten an apology, albeit the usual, quick one that any kid who didn't want a spanking would give. But suggesting that Donna Noble hadn't gone through her closet wasn't the best step to have taken after that.

"And just where do you think this came from?" she hissed, thumbing the robe she wore. "Certainly wasn't the closet unless one of us has been rummaging in one that's 'bigger on the inside'."

Cross, but not necessarily in the mood to keep railing on him, Donna turned for the next hallway, waving his glasses back. "Think I'll keep these for a bit. Unless you're up for a trade." Donna couldn't exactly wear anything off such a stick, but she'd definitely settle for his coat. "Things I've had to wear here have been beyond ghastly..." she muttered, then pulled the glasses back to her and slid them on. Not bad. Little geeky but even that trumped the gray uniform.

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Night 47: West Wing, South Hall 1-B

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