Summary: Sixth begins to truly despise domestics. Who knew human children that small could cause so much trouble and destruction? AU/AR/ONE SHOT
Domestic Anti-Bliss
How had it come to this? He ran the comb he'd taken from Bobbie Mae through his hair again and sure enough, more hair fell out. He shivered and put the comb down on the bathroom counter of his ensuite. He stared at his hands...they were trembling. Him! The Sixth Doctor! He was actually afraid to go back out into the main parts of his ship because the children were out there and he didn't know how much more he could take.
Finally, he drew in a deep breath, he was the Doctor, after all, he could handle a few human children couldn't he? They were only baby apes, after all...highly creative little apes, if destructive...oh, yes...very destructive. Though that oldest girl had called it 'repurposing the useless'. If only she hadn't been talking about his beautiful coat with all the many colors. He felt a tear slide down his left cheek, thinking about the demise of his signature coat for this body. Well, not demise, really...it was still there...not in any form he had any desire to wear. His lovely patchwork coat had been taken apart at the seams, the bits had been bleached white and then tie-dyed and then it had been sewn back together again with glow-in-the-dark thread. Greenish-yellowy thread. It was creepy. He was never babysitting again...ever.
He sank down on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands as he heard excited squeals and squeaks in the hall outside his room before the oldest one stated clearly, "Oh! There's more of them? Well, gather them up and get the seams out while I get the color remover ready. I don't know what idiot told the Doctor he looked good in those things but he resembles a demented little orphan Annie more than anything."
"Yah, he does." Piped up little nine year old Mable. "But, we're working on making sure he doesn't embarrass himself in public. This is what happens when your brain gets too old though, you start making really stupid decisions."
"Becky, do you think he'll give me my thinning comb back any time soon?" He heard Bobbie ask her much older sister.
Thinning comb?
"Why would he need your thinning comb? Weren't you going to comb out Sammie's winter hair?"
"Yup, but he saw the dog hair on the bathroom floor and nearly had a fit. Took it and I think he intended to use it."
"Oh dear. We'll be lucky if he's still got hair when he comes back out here. Let me get you another one Bobbie. Sammie's itchy and using the comb is faster for him than shedding."
The conversation moved off down the hall and the Sixth Doctor decided he wasn't coming out until they were all in bed asleep...
"Thinning comb?" He whispered to himself and his ship in horror. "It's supposed to do that?"
**END**