December 18:th - The Cloak is an Aligator Today
Mrs Hudson was determined. And when Mrs Hudson was determined, things tended to happen. They just did. Not many realised that it did, but if they had only observed, they'd notice how Sherlock had stopped shooting at walls or how John had stopped being bitter. When she put her mind to something, she eventually got her way.
Doctor Stange, though, he knew nothing of that. Had barely even met her during the brief kidnapping, something he put down to the excentricities of the TARDIS. The TARDIS had returned yesterday, seemingly to play with the cloak, but he had told it to clear off.
Today, the dimension seemed at peace, and Strange had curled up in bed with his laptop, answering emails - there were a ton of them, as he had ignored it for quite some time.
He had barely gotten through number two - a world-renowned specialist who had gotten his name from an old mutual colleague and wanted a second opinion (that was something he was more than happy to give, as it was a fascinating case) - when there was a pressure over his leg. Looking down, baffled, he spotted his cloak. As he attempted to pull free of it, it held tighter. It was not its normal behaviour. But he trusted his cloak, and so he let it snak up his legs as he ignored messages from Christine and checked several more medical inquiries.
It didn't follow him out as he went to meet the novice sent to help him chop up vegetables and venison for his evening meal, but he thought nothing of it. When it did arrive, its presence was announced by the novice shouting. Strange rolled his eyes and turned to look, seeing how the cloak pretended to go for the novice's toes. The Master Sorcerer chuckled and went back to cooking. That the novices never learnt. He would save the man if the screaming got too loud, he decided.
When he returned to his room later with a bowl of food and a smug Cloak, he settled back in with his laptop, opening it up from screensaver.
What he saw, as it came back to life, made him frown in surprise. Who had been at his computer? Oh, it must have been the cloak. He didn't mind, exactly, but it was undoubtedly a bit odd.
He scrolled down the page his Cloak had selected, reading with a puzzled smile. It was some sort of blog, written by another doctor. Who was he, and why was the cloak curious about him? Changing back to his email and returning to his meal, Stephen petted his possesive cloak, now curling up around his legs to the point where he couldn't have gotten up if he wanted to, content for now to ignore the puzzle.
The Cloak was inside the TARDIS yesterday... and it might have gotten a few ideas from it...
I do not own anything you recognise - I don't even know where some of it is from!
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