Chapter 2
"So. What do you think?" the Brigadier asked.
The Doctor surveyed the small laboratory. There were several tabletops, a counter, and cabinets. Every surface was covered with the various gizmos that the Doctor had accumulated over a lifetime. A small refrigerator stood against the right wall. The back right corner seemed conspicuously empty. The Brigadier stood between the double doors as the Doctor ran his hand over the myriad gadgets.
The Brigadier was struck by the Doctor's unusual way of dress. Ruffles was the first word that came to mind. Well, he thought. These scientist types could dress however they wanted as long as they produced the goods.
"I think it'll do," the Doctor replied magnanimously.
The Brigadier cleared his throat. "Well, the garage is just down the hall on the left. I must say, that is quite the…interesting car you have."
"Bessie? Yes, well. I must say there's a special place in my heart for her." The Doctor's eyes wandered to the refrigerator. "Is that…?"
"Yes."
"May I ask…where you get it?"
"UNIT has a little weight in the government. We were able to dip into the blood store."
"I see." The Doctor seemed distinctly uncomfortable.
"You didn't specify how much you needed, so there might be a bit of a surplus."
The Doctor coughed. "Well, I seem to need it badly every three days or so."
"Badly?"
"Mmm." He placed one hand on his hip. The other rubbed thoughtfully beneath his nose.
The Brigadier clasped his hands behind his back. "Now, Doctor, we do need to discuss as to the matter of your assistant."
"My assistant? What assistant?"
"It is my opinion as well some of my higher-ups that you should have an assistant. He or she could help with your scientific projects and UNIT duties, as well as make sure you're getting the right amount of…nutrition."
"I see. You think I need a keeper. Now, look here Lethbridge-Stewart. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and I certainly—"
"Doctor, you haven't got much choice in the matter!" The Brigadier swallowed. "You can expect to meet them within the next week." He pursed his lips. "I'll leave you to it then." He turned on his heel and let the double doors swing closed behind him.
The Doctor let out a long, exhausted breath. His eyes wandered over the room and lingered on the back corner. Something needed to go there. He walked slowly over to the refrigerator and opened it. Within there were several stacked packets full of human blood.
He swallowed. It was disgusting how appealing those packets looked right now. He pulled the top packet out and closed the door. He settled down on a lab stool, grumbling about unnecessary assistants.
He stared at the blood, thinking of all the horrible things he had done. "Blast it all," he muttered, ripping the seal off the packet. He raised it to his lips and drank. Why did the blessed stuff have to taste so good? He finished and dropped the packet in the garbage.
So, this was working for the government. It wasn't so bad, really. It gave him stability. And Lethbridge-Stewart wasn't a bad chap, despite his military mindset. The Doctor picked up the gadget that was closest to him. It was a mess of jumbled wires and metal spikes. He began to tinker.
"Might as well start somewhere," he sighed.
Sorry for all this exposition. The real story is coming, I swear!