WHO:The Doctor and Wednesday Addams WHERE: Outside, near the hotel WHEN: Mid-day on August 5th WHAT: In which The Doctor meets Wednesday, and everyone realises (again) that he's really just a giant, eyebrow-less five-year-old. WARNINGS: TBD
If The Doctor was being honest with himself, and the reality was that he very rarely was, he hadn't yet recovered from Elizabeth. Oh, he knew all the dead had miraculously come back to life and that was lovely, really. But they'd died to begin with and The Doctor had been--well, even less than useless. So he'd been in a bit of a funk. Badgering Amy left and right, bugging her until she gave him the sort of look that generally accompanied a spanking in children. He'd been to every building that hadn't been declared "off limits" by those on the network, peering in and examining things like he thought it would help.
Thus far, nothing had.
So he'd begun to get a bit dejected. He found himself slouching around the hotel, plagued by a combination of being bored absolutely stiff and being internally very angry with himself for failure.
This was translating to a childlike annoyance with his sonic screwdriver. He kept slapping it sharply against his palm and reminding it that it used to know how to do wood; what had changed? And the answer of course was that everything had changed. They were in Marrowood now, and Marrowood was a noplace, a pocket universe where all the rules were incredibly, horribly different.
Huffing, he slapped the device against his palm once more and said, "No, no, no, you stupid thing. It's wood, not girl!" He even turned his head and was about to point for emphasis when he noticed that the thing his screwdriver was currently pointed at was, in fact, girl. Oh.
"Well. Hello there," he said, forcing himself to get very bright and peppy. "I'm The Doctor. Who might you be?"