Chameleon Arch of Infinity
"There must be another way to sever this antimatter creature's connection to the Doctor. Surely the society that invented regeneration has the technological capability to shield his genetic signature or change his biodata without harming him!" Nyssa's voice was sharp with anger, still fuming following her audience with the High Council.
Damon had been too preoccupied with how they were going to discover who had betrayed the Doctor by transmitting his biodata extract off-world to consider the problem from that angle. The High Council had made up their minds that executing him was the only way to avert the danger to their universe in time; it never occurred to him to question that assumption. Her words gave him pause.
"You're right," he said slowly, working the idea over in his mind. "An ordinary biodamper wouldn't be enough, but like you said, if we altered his biodata then there'd be no matching signature to link up with."
"Yes, exactly. Is it possible?"
"Theoretically, of course. But we need a way to do it in a hurry; that's more difficult. I'm a Matrix Technician, not a geneticist," he explained. "But I think I may know of something..." he said with cautious excitement. "There's a bit of outdated Gallifreyan technology installed on older TARDISes that could do it, perhaps." He grinned, pleased that his hobby of reading up on obscure bits of time capsule gadgetry was proving useful. "Chameleon arches are capable of temporarily reconfiguring a Time Lord's body to match the DNA of any other humanoid species; they were invented to enable researchers to observe more primitive societies from within."
Nyssa's eyes lit up. "That sounds promising."
Damon looked about them nervously for potential eavesdroppers before continuing his explanation in a hushed voice. "Their use was discontinued due to the side effects of the process. Very few humanoid brains are compatible with a Gallifreyan mind, so in most cases, the subject's memories have to be stored in the device and an alternative mental history constructed for them. It proved very inconvenient and potentially dangerous in practice; the transformation prevents regeneration and it isn't always possible to activate the reversal mechanism in time. Several Time Lords were accidentally killed before they discontinued the programme. It's risky, and wouldn't be a permanent solution, but it might give us enough time to stop the entity."
"The Doctor won't like the idea of being helpless, but surely it's better than the alternative," Nyssa said, thinking. "Do you think we could locate one of these devices quickly?"
"There's probably one installed on the Doctor's own ship, a Type 40 is certainly an old enough model."
"And if there isn't or it's in disrepair?" she asked, remembering the conversation she'd had with the Doctor earlier that day about TARDIS maintenance.
"Then we'll have to search the shipyards. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"We need to see him."
Damon nodded. "That may be tricky, he's closely confined; I was able to pass him a copy of the transmission log when they were escorting him back to the security compound, but Maxil's guards nearly had me arrested. Councillor Hedin is friends with the Doctor, perhaps he'll be able to help us convince the Castellan." He stood to lead her out into the corridor, and they walked briskly towards the Executive Wing where the councillors' private offices were located.
With Hedin's assistance, the Castellan was more sympathetic to their pleas and granted them permission to visit the Doctor, who had been confined to his TARDIS. Nyssa and Damon practically ran through the Capitol to reach the security compound. The Chancellery Guard were not happy to see them when they arrived outside the blue police box and requested entry.
"You have visitors, Doctor," Commander Maxil announced with a distinct note of distaste as he allowed them into the console room.
"Doctor," Nyssa greeted her friend with relief when he appeared.
"How did you get in here?" he asked in a tone that might have been irritation, might have been worry.
"Councillor Hedin arranged it with the Castellan."
"Well, that's very generous of the Castellan. Come, we'll walk while we speak," he replied, ushering them toward the door.
"You will remain here," the Commander snarled, "where I may keep an eye on you."
"The Castellan said that we might be alone," Damon protested, though the Castellan had said no such thing.
He scowled, but relented. "Very well. You have twenty microspans. See that you don't go wandering off." The implied threat was clear.
"Excellent." The Doctor spoke with false cheer, aware that they still had an audience as they made their way out of the room. "Well, Damon, what news of my old companion Leela?"
"She's well and very happy," Damon supplied, somewhat thrown off by the unexpected question, but catching on quickly.
"I was so sorry to have missed her wedding. Still, perhaps I'll get to see her before I go..." He trailed off as he closed the door to Nyssa's bedroom behind them. "Maxil has just planted a listening device in the console room," he informed them in a low voice.
"Are you all right Doctor?" Nyssa asked, eyes wary for signs of further mistreatment now that they were alone. He seemed tired, but unharmed.
"I'm fine," he replied a little too quickly to be reassuring and changed the subject, clapping his hands together. "We've other concerns at the moment; we now have proof that my biodata extract was removed from the Matrix." He held up the thin printout that Damon had been able to pass to him in the corridor earlier.
"Yes, I know, Doctor," Nyssa said. They had a slightly more pressing situation to deal with before they could find the traitor on Gallifrey.
"This is a disaster in the making," he continued. "Unless I'm mistaken, Gallifrey could lose control of the space-time Matrix."
"But that's impossible," Damon chimed in. Maintaining the security of the Matrix was one of his highest priorities as a technician. It was exceedingly well protected from outside influence.
"That's exactly what the High Council think. So, we must see what we can do to stop it happening."
"Of course, Doctor, but we'll hardly be able to do that if they kill you first," Nyssa interrupted him.
"Regardless of how grim things may seem at the moment Nyssa, I highly doubt the traitor will actually allow me to be executed," he assured her. "I'm vital to this creature's plans to infiltrate our universe. Once we've ensured the Matrix is safe, we'll simply need to find a way to force this person to reveal themselves."
"And you intend to do this how? By sitting here and hoping everything turns out all right? You could be playing right into their hands for all you know!" Nyssa's voice had risen and there were spots of colour high on her cheeks.
The Doctor frowned. Whatever it was that he was about to say in reply was pre-empted by Nyssa speaking up again.
"We came to tell you that we believe we've found an alternative solution to the bonding problem, one which the High Council, in their haste, neglected to even consider."
"And that would be...?" the Doctor asked, genuinely curious.
"A chameleon arch, Doctor," Damon answered.
"What?" The Doctor looked alarmed. "No, that's hardly a solution at all! If anything, it would place us in even further danger by rendering me incapable of assisting in our investigation."
"That may be, however," Damon began, but Nyssa jumped in, having had a few new thoughts of her own on the matter.
"That's not necessarily the case. Damon told me that this device could be used to replicate the biology of any humanoid species -"
"Yes, but using it would mean confining my conscious mind to an outdated contraption for the duration and leaving my body in the metaphorical hands of an artificial personality."
"Only if the target species' brain is incompatible with housing a Time Lord mind, Doctor. But we both know of at least one other species capable of managing such a task, don't we?"
The Doctor's expression became pained. Yes, he knew precisely what, or rather whom, Nyssa was referring to: the Master, who had successfully stolen her father's Trakenite body and suffered no apparent damage to his mental prowess in the process (though with the Master, such things were difficult to gage). Damon, who was unaware of this shared history between the two travellers, felt rather out of the loop.
"Nyssa. Even supposing that could work, it's still a very risky procedure which would leave me particularly vulnerable should things go poorly."
"More so than putting your life in the hands of the High Council's executioner?" she countered.
The Doctor closed his mouth and simply starred at her. His companion's fiercely protective intentions were evident in her glare and crossed-arms; she wasn't likely to budge on this point. He sighed and looked to Damon, who had wisely stepped back to let them argue it out. "Do you believe the Council would even agree to this alternative?"
"Perhaps if we were to present it to them as fait accompli," the other Gallifreyan suggested. "Does your TARDIS have a working module installed?"
"There is one onboard, I believe it's in the medical bay, but I've never had occasion to test it." He turned back to Nyssa. "We'll need a sufficient distraction in order to accomplish this transformation without Maxil and the rest of the Guard storming in here."
Smiling wryly at his acceptance of her idea, Nyssa nodded.
"In case this doesn't work as planned, I want us able to leave as soon as possible. Damon, I know you've already risked a great deal for me, but could I impose upon you a little further?"
"Anything."
"I need another space-time element for the TARDIS, preferably one without a recall circuit."
"I'll see what I can do. Anything else?"
"Yes. You could check to see if the Matrix is aware of any recent details concerning power equipment - movement, transportation. Nyssa and I will see to the chameleon arch."
Damon was nodding when the bedroom door swung open abruptly, admitting the humourless form of Commander Maxil, absurd plumed hat tucked under his arm.
"Commander, is our time up so soon? I had thought we had several more spans remaining." The Doctor kept his back to the other man, flicking his eyes up to meet Nyssa's. He assumed a stern tone. "Well, Nyssa, that's my final word. If my appeal is denied, we must accept the decision of the High Council. Understood?"
Taking her cue, Nyssa let her lip wobble as though she were fighting back tears and nodded once, hesitantly, before collapsing to the floor in a passable imitation of a swoon. The Doctor was at her side nearly instantly, scooping her up and carrying her past the irritated Guard Commander, moving briskly to avoid being stopped.
Voice full of concern, the Doctor insisted on taking her to his ship's medical bay so that he could examine her properly. "My companion is extremely sensitive to psychic shocks; I'm afraid this situation may have done her genuine harm," he argued as he strode purposefully down the corridor with Nyssa's limp form cradled in his arms.
Maxil was not so easily swayed. "When the warrant is issued Doctor, you are to report to the place of termination immediately. This foolishness will not allow you to delay your sentence."
The Doctor rounded on him angrily. "You may have your orders Maxil, but I also take my responsibilities very seriously and, so long as I am still alive, the well-being of my companion takes precedence. Allow me to ensure that she is all right and afterwards I will accompany you willingly when the time comes."
"Very well. Make it quick, Doctor. My patience is already at an end."
The Doctor nodded and continued onward to his spoken destination. Maxil followed him, insisting on keeping them in his sight. Damon, meanwhile, slipped back out of the TARDIS through the console room, on his way to begin assembling a space-time element, trusting the Doctor and Nyssa to handle the rest.
Once they entered the small shipboard medical bay, and escaped the observation of any other guards, things moved rather swiftly.
The Doctor laid Nyssa down on the first examination bed and dashed to a cupboard across the room claiming he needed to retrieve something. His actions kept Maxil's eyes off of Nyssa, who dropped her fainting ruse as soon as his back was turned and rolled off of the bed. While the Doctor provided cover by rummaging through cabinets loudly, she silently fetched a hypospray from a bedside drawer and injected a sedative into the back of the oblivious Commander's neck. Maxil dropped like a stone, unconscious before he even had time for a whimper of alarm.
Hurrying to lock the door before anyone else could walk in, the Doctor gave Nyssa an admiring look. "Neatly done. I shall have to bear this incident in mind, next time we have a disagreement."
"I may have given him too much. I had to guess at the dosage; he's about your height, but it was difficult to be certain of his weight with the armour, and it would have been unfortunate for us both if I'd selected too low of a dose. Help me get him up onto the bed," she answered.
Together, they lifted the unconscious Gallifreyan up, relieved him of his weapon, and secured him to the bed with a medical stasis field. Wasting no time, the Doctor went to look for the chameleon arch.
"I know I saw it in here somewhere," he said, digging through a cluttered cabinet. "Ah ha!"
He withdrew a strange contraption that resembled a crude spinal immobilisation halo with what seemed to be an ordinary fob watch from Earth attached to the ring. He took it over to connect it into the primary diagnostic panel, causing a long string of Gallifreyan symbols to appear on the screen. Nyssa joined him at the computer terminal while he programmed the settings.
"We're in luck," he said with relief, "it is possible to disable the personality override, though the warnings against doing so without certain knowledge of species compatibility are rather dire. Fortunately, there are a couple of Trakenite DNA scans available in the databank for use as a template." The Doctor gave her a wan smile.
"Do you know how long the process will take? They're bound to notice their commander's disappearance soon."
"I'm not sure," he answered. "It may be best to do this in one of the isolation beds; I expect this will be extremely painful." He finished setting the device and clipped the 'watch' back into place on the halo.
Nyssa stepped out of the way as he carried the device over to the nearest isolation bed. The wires were just long enough to reach provided he lay down with his head at what was intended to be the foot of the bed. Once the Doctor had shucked his coat and sat, she helped him position the halo on himself. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she saw how apprehensive he suddenly became wearing the device.
He gripped her hand tightly. "If something goes wrong, the reversal mechanism is contained within the watch. You need only to open it in my presence to return me to myself," he told her.
Putting her hand on his shoulder, she assured him that she would, if it came to it. "You'll be just fine, Doctor. Think of it as a temporary regeneration."
The Doctor nodded and advised her to take a step back. "This probably won't be pleasant to watch; I don't suppose that will stop you though, will it?" Nyssa shook her head. "Very well. Wish me luck." She gave his shoulder a parting squeeze and reached over to switch on the bed's isolation field. He took a deep breath and activated the device.
As he predicted, seeing the Doctor in agony and being helpless to do anything for him was torture for her. With the shielding on, she couldn't hear his screaming, but watching it was painful enough. Finally, she had to shut her eyes against the sight. After waiting what seemed like ages, but couldn't have been more than a few minutes, the computer made a soft chirping sound. Nyssa cautiously opened her eyes and saw that he was lying still. Cancelling the isolation field, she stepped up to the bed and gently removed the chameleon arch from his head, smoothing his sweat-dampened blond hair back from his face as she did so.
His skin felt warmer, and he was breathing so shallowly she could barely see his chest rise and fall. Compelled by curiosity, she slid two fingers below his jaw to feel for a pulse. There it was: slightly rapid, but slowing, the single, steady beat of one heart. One Trakenite heart, she realised and the thought suddenly overwhelmed her. She'd been so focused on saving his life that she'd forgotten to account for her own feelings.
In the years since her home planet's destruction, Nyssa had resigned herself to being the last surviving member of her species. To be confronted, however temporarily, with her dear friend in a Trakenite body created a confusing emotional response in her. She felt inexplicably drawn to him, yet deeply saddened by the reminder of the loss of her people.
Puzzling out that mix of feelings would have to wait though, as her contemplation was interrupted by a pounding on the infirmary door.
Not wishing to provoke the Capitol guards any more than necessary, Nyssa pocketed the fob watch-shaped component and walked over to the door, intending to open it once she'd dealt with her captive. The commotion had roused Maxil, who was now groggily thrashing at his restraints.
"My apologies, Commander, but it was necessary in order to prevent your interference." He stared blearily at her and demanded to be set free. "I intend to. But first, I want you to tell your men to stand down and give me your assurance that no harm will befall either the Doctor or myself en route to the High Council's Chambers. There has been an important development in the matter which must be brought to their immediate attention."
"What have you done?" he asked, looking from her stern face to the Doctor, lying motionless in the other bed.
"With any luck, prevented the incursion of a dangerous antimatter creature into this universe," Nyssa replied.
Maxil glared at her. "Release me and I won't have you confined to a security cell." Nyssa didn't move. Realising he was in a poor position to negotiate, the belligerent Gallifreyan sighed. "You have my word that no harm will come to you or the Doctor until I've brought you both before the Council."
Nyssa deactivated the bed restraints and stood back as Maxil climbed unsteadily to his feet. Reclaiming his sidearm from atop the counter and holstering it, he opened the door to meet the startled gazes of his men, who had been trying to force the lock mechanism.
"Sir. Is everything all right in here?" one of them asked. "We were informed that the prisoner's guest had fallen ill while speaking with him and then you didn't return." The men eyed Nyssa, who was clearly perfectly healthy and calmly tending to a prone Doctor in the background. "The Castellan has just issued the warrant for termination," he added quietly.
"I have the situation in hand, Henzil," Maxil assured him, maintaining his officious posture despite being somewhat the worse for wear after having been drugged. Saying otherwise would have meant admitting he'd been bested by the young alien woman's childish ruse and he had no desire to appear foolish or weak. "The Doctor has simply been making excuses in an effort to postpone his termination. We shall escort them both to the High Council at once."
While the Chancellery Guards discussed the situation, Nyssa was busy attempting to get the Doctor upright and able to walk following his ordeal with the chameleon arch.
Woken by her gentle urging, the Doctor sat up slowly, blinking as he took stock of himself. After the blinding pain he'd endured until he lost consciousness, he felt strangely numb, as though all of his senses had been subtly reduced in efficacy. Worse, his temporal senses had gone entirely, leaving an eerie feeling of incompleteness behind. He'd had concussions that were less disorientating than this. Nyssa's presence at his side stood out to him like a burning ember of worry in the small room filled with emotionally distant Time Lords.
"Doctor?"
Instinctively, he reached out to reassure her only to withdraw his hand awkwardly a second later; his fingers had only brushed her skin when the intensity of her concern, or at least his awareness of it, increased threefold. The cause of this startling phenomenon was lost on him until he remembered – Nyssa's people were natural empaths; Nyssa herself being a particularly sensitive example. And where had the TARDIS gotten the genetic pattern to base his own Trakenite form on? It was to be entirely expected that he would inherit some of that sensitivity, not that that knowledge made him feel any less ill at ease with this development.
"It worked," he whispered with an uncertain smile, "I'm still myself." Mostly, he thought.
Their hushed conversation was the first confirmation she'd had that the process had preserved his full cognitive capabilities. To say she was relieved would have been an understatement.
She smiled back at him and the Doctor felt his breath catch involuntarily in response to the burst of feeling that accompanied it. He felt almost as though someone had just set off an incendiary device right next to his head, it was that jarring. This was going to take some getting used to. The empathic sense felt a lot less precise than the telepathic abilities he had experience managing; he hoped he wasn't projecting as loudly as he was receiving. Another, smaller part of him wondered what it might feel like to be around her when she was in a truly happy mood.
"Are you feeling well enough to stand? We need to present our solution to the High Council before Commander Maxil forgets his promise to me."
"What promise?" he asked, bringing his legs around to slide off of the infirmary bed.
Nyssa kept her expression carefully neutral and ignored his question, instead taking his arm to steady him as he stood. Fortunately, aside from some mild light-headedness, he found his motor coordination largely unaffected; to reduce discomfort and the amount of energy required for the process, the chameleon arch was programmed to preserve as much of the Time Lord's original physical appearance as possible. Since none of his features were outside the normal range for a Trakenite male of his apparent age, he ought to look much the same. He picked up his coat and put it back on, smoothing the lapels and adjusting his celery.
Maxil gave the Doctor an irritated look and motioned for the pair of them to precede him out of the infirmary, guards flanking them on all sides to prevent any more unscheduled detours along the way.
The Doctor's arrival was attended by an inordinate amount of pomp and circumstance. The Time Lords, recognising the extremity of their decision, if not the lack of necessity for it, had fallen back on the familiar comfort of ceremony. Commander Maxil even wore his hat for the occasion. It was almost a shame that he was about to spoil their fun, the Doctor thought bitterly.
Lord President Borusa's voice carried easily across the chamber. "Doctor, you have been summoned to the place of termination, not your companion. I do not believe this is something you would wish her to witness."
"I trust you know what you're doing," the Doctor said with an edge of anger in his voice, ignoring the President's remark regarding his companion. Nyssa glanced over at him, no doubt wondering why he wasn't explaining himself yet. He held a flat hand out low at his side to assure her that he had a plan.
"You know the choice we have to face Doctor. Our duty, if not our conscience, is clear," Borusa replied.
"And the decision was unanimous?" the Doctor asked.
"There was one dissenter, your good friend, Councillor Hedin."
"Thank you, Hedin. I much appreciate all that you've done," he nodded gravely to his friend, who accepted the gesture with uncomfortable grace.
"However," the Doctor paused to give his next words more weight, "I'm afraid you're all quite mistaken on one point." He smiled. "My death will not be necessary after all. While the Council debated the morality of executing one of your own, safe and secure in your private chambers, I took the liberty of rendering myself incompatible with the creature's attempts to complete the bonding process. I stand before you stripped of my Gallifreyan form." He spread both arms out, inviting their inquiries.
For a moment, the silence in the room was palpable, and then all of the gathered Time Lords began speaking at once. The Doctor stood patiently with his hands clasped behind his back, resisting the irrational urge to take a bow.
"What is the meaning of this?" Borusa demanded over the din and the room quieted again.
"Just what he says, Lord President," Nyssa answered. "The creature cannot bond with the Doctor because we've modified his biosignature from the one it originally targeted. Genetically speaking, the Doctor is now one of my own people."
"My ship is equipped with a functional chameleon arch," the Doctor explained. "I am prepared to remain in this form until the creature is located and dispatched back to its own universe. I trust this is a satisfactory answer to the Council's concerns?" He scanned the faces of the councillors as he spoke, watching their reactions carefully. There were too many people in the room radiating strong emotions for his new empathic sensitivities to reliably pick out any individual notes. Whomever the traitor was, they hadn't given themselves away just yet.
"Given this new information, the order of termination will be postponed to allow time for the High Council to investigate the veracity of your claims," Borusa announced. "You will submit to an examination, Doctor, and provided what you say is true, and the threat to our universe posed by the creature's use of your biodata has been averted, we will gladly rescind our order and grant you your freedom. However, you will not be permitted to leave the Capitol or revert to your natural form until such time as we are satisfied that the danger has entirely passed."
The president turned to the guards standing next to him. "Lord Castellan, Commander Maxil, please have the Doctor escorted to the Capitol infirmary for an examination and then have him and his companion confined to a diplomatic quarters until we call for them."
"Lord President, if I may," the Doctor spoke up, "in light of the recent security breach, I request that the details of any bioscans performed on myself be kept confidential and not entered into the Matrix archive. The word of Gallifrey's finest physicians ought to be sufficient to confirm my statements for the Council without placing my life at additional unnecessary risk."
Borusa pursed his lips and nodded. "Your request is not unreasonable. See that it is honoured, Lord Castellan." And with that, the Time Lord President dismissed the assembly.
Confirming the Doctor's altered biology took very little time at all, though their escorts quickly grew tired of the Chief Physician's questions regarding the details of his modifications to the chameleon arch's normal parameters. She'd been duly impressed when he informed her that it had been Nyssa's suggestion and would have kept them there longer for a more in depth discussion had the Castellan not abruptly announced that they were done.
While the Chief Physician had regarded him with fascination and admiration for the ingenuity and bravery involved in undertaking such a drastic transformation without prior testing, the other Time Lords he'd interacted with thus far seemed to regard the Doctor's new condition with something like pity or disgust. Word had quickly spread throughout the Capitol and wherever they went, they were met with curious stares and whispers. It made him more than a little grateful to be rid of their company for a while when the door to the modest diplomatic apartment slid shut behind them. He sighed and made for the utilitarian sofa, sitting and massaging his temples wearily.
Nyssa regarded him thoughtfully. "How do you feel, Doctor?" she asked.
"I shouldn't think you'd have to ask, Nyssa," he answered dryly, then softened his reply with an amused sound in his throat that was almost a chuckle.
She smiled softly and sat down next to him.
"Tell me," he continued, "is it always like this for you? Are other people always this..." He searched for the right word. "...noisy?"
"You learn to filter it out with practice, but yes, it can be overwhelming at times." She placed a hand over his on the cushion and pretended not to hear the surprised breath he took at the contact. He didn't flinch or try to move away from her touch though.
"I can see why your people were so devoted to peace and harmony," he noted, for lack of anything better to say.
"Yes."
A silence fell between them as they both thought of the beautiful world that the Master's thoughtless attempt at galactic conquest had destroyed. Regretting his insensitive words and the melancholic feelings he'd caused his companion, the Doctor turned to Nyssa apologetically.
"Thank you for your assistance today," he said simply, though there was much more that he might have said to her.
They'd been travelling together for so long that he'd come to rely on her sensible nature, keen intellect, and unerring moral compass to see him through some of the most difficult situations that the universe had to offer. He often worried about protecting her, and making sure that she got to experience beauty and happiness in their journeys as well, but it was rare that he allowed himself to reflect upon how much she meant to him personally. They were good friends. He dared not probe the depths of his affection for her, lest he discover some uncomfortable truths waiting there.
"I'm glad it worked," she replied, picking up on some of the deeper feeling behind his words and deciding to stick to a safe topic. She wasn't used to the Doctor being such an open book. Normally he tried to hide his vulnerability behind a polite wall of stoicism or, when that didn't work, bitter sarcasm; even when he was candid with her, it was always harder to read him than most. She'd discovered today that emotional guardedness was likely a common trait among his people; the Time Lords all felt eerily sterile in their interactions to her. If he was feeling overwhelmed here on Gallifrey, then it was lucky they weren't on Earth or some other far more boisterous world. She knew him well enough to know that he'd adapt to this like any other predicament they found themselves in, but it still made her wish there was something more she could do when she felt him struggling.
"So am I," he agreed and surprised himself with a yawn.
"You ought to rest, Doctor, you've been through a lot today and you'll find that a Trakenite body is less capable of sustaining itself without sleep than the one you're used to."
He shook his head. "We ought to be searching for signs of that creature's location, or attempting to seek out the source of the data leak."
"Neither of which we can do while we're locked up in here," she countered reasonably. "I believe there is a bedroom just through that portal over there."
"What about you?"
"My body has not just been completely reconfigured on the cellular level; this sofa will do me just fine if I decide I need it," she insisted. "Rest, Doctor."
Reluctantly, he stood and made his way to the bed. Still yawning as he removed his shoes, coat, and jumper, he was asleep nearly the instant his head hit the pillow.