Chapter Eleven: In Case of Fruit Basket, Ring Bell
"So the clone's people were captured by the Daleks and retuned," Caan said calmly, sipping the new slushie the Doctor had substituted on the night he'd been Dalek-napped.
"You're… sure you're not sore about being kidnapped? I mean, we did spill your slushie and all, Caan dear," said the Doctor, rubbing Caan's casing with a flannel to polish it.
"We are not bo-thered," Caan said, grating out his usual tinny voice like parmesan cheese on spaghetti, "Although we would have issues if the slu-shie had not been re-placed! Thank you Doc-tor!"
The Doctor nodded, and settled back in his hover to listen.
"So, you mean to have us infiltrate Dalek delegation and find the traitors who caused the bombing? But we are already ambassador Caan? Confusion! Confusion!"
"No, no, Caan, sweetheart, as a Different Dalek!" the Doctor squeaked hopefully, "I'll provide you with a cover shimmer, programmed by yours truly. Your friends the psychopathic pepper pots won't be able to tell, so you'll be safe while you look for Welyx with the self-degrading scannites I've hidden in the shimmer data. Just don't let on that you're with us, Caan-y; it could get messy. I don't have to remind you of your people's tendency to fry up traitors- you'd be nothing more than overcooked calamari before you took two steps, erm, sorry, flight cycles out the gate."
"It is a good plan, but…" Dalek Caan scratched out thoughtfully, his casing making little excited gear noises, "after it is o-ver, you will make us a root beer, yes? We will do anything for a root beer."
The Doctor shrugged and tried it. "So, anything, right? O-kay then! Think you could wear a pink tutu for Jack's Birthday Party?"
"Will there be root beer?"
