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The Tenth Doctor (dominustemporis) wrote in wariscoming,

"That's new." The Doctor didn't think he'd ever met professional demon hunters. Not real ones, anyway, or at least, real ones in the sense that they actually hunted demons. He'd known plenty of individuals who had a thing or two to say about hunting vampires, real vampires, however, so that part wasn't quite as exciting. There'd been a time, in the ancient history of Gallifrey, when vampires had been a true threat. His people had waged war against them, with a good deal more success than their campaign against the Daleks. Still, he thought, the vampires here were probably quite different, more in keeping with human legends. Which, actually, were entirely the fault of the vampires his people had fought, or at least, they had been in his proper dimension. Oh, this was going to be confusing, wasn't it?

"I don't suppose there's a manual." He was only half-joking. It would have been nice to sit down with a book filled with all sorts of useful information and simply process all of it. He liked books. Books were a perfect medium for sharing information. There was so much a person could do with the right words in the right order in the right place. "I'm sure I'll manage without one," he hastened to add, to show that he hadn't been entirely serious. "Like you said ... We're not alone in this. Plenty of people to show me the ropes." You're here to show me the ropes, he'd wanted to say, but he didn't want to presume. Rose shouldn't feel obligated, if she didn't want him anymore.