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Now look what you did! – I Hate Titling Things!

Now look what you did!


The Brigadier sat crying in the corner of the Doctor's lab, tense from sobbing and his face wet with tears. A very confused Liz Shaw could only hover nearby, occasionally poking him lightly in the shoulder and looking for signs of change.

"I'm sure things will be all right in time, sir. Right, Doctor?" she added pointedly, turning toward the cross-looking Time Lord. He was hard at work, poking away at god knows what equipment he'd dragged out of the TARDIS. She'd been helping him until shooed away, told that she could be of more use keeping the Brig out of trouble. Normally, she'd have resented that, but with the man in this state...

"Benton doesn't love me." the Brigadier whimpered, and clung to a cushion he'd commandeered from the chairs.

"Hmm? Yes, yes, I imagine they will," the Doctor snapped, annoyed at being interrupted. "It's his own fault, you know. I specifically said, 'Lethbridge-Stewart, do not touch anything, absolutely anything, in this room.' And what does he do? Drinks the damn coffee."

"He probably thought someone else left it there, Doctor." Liz said, the Brigadier too forlorn to defend himself. "You aren't exactly in the habit of studying coffee."

The Doctor reached for a cube with blinking lights on it, tilting it from side to side, assessing its usefulness. "This coffee I rather think I was. I'd detected it was highly unstable and contained several unknown factors from what appeared to be an unknown dimension, telltale markers of passing through a rift in space-time. It may well be a precursor to an invasion!" He tossed the cube down dramatically and sighed. "Now, I have to get back to work."

"Yes, you do," Liz agreed, more to herself than the occupied Doctor. The poor Brigadier was such a mess. If only there were something she could do beyond keeping him away from the telephone...

There was a quiet knock on the door, followed by Benton cautiously poking his head in the room. "Er...is he any better?"

"He should be. Give me time...I need time!" the Doctor muttered, pacing back to the TARDIS.

"That's a relief," Benton said, still a bit afraid to walk in the room. "I mean, I know he's not himself and whatever that stuff is has scrambled his brain, but it's starting to get hard to hide all those flowers, you know?"

"Say they're from a secret admirer," Liz suggested. The Brigadier squeaked, offended, and she patted his head. She only hoped he wouldn't remember this when he snapped out of thingsā€”it probably wouldn't go over well.

Benton shifted nervously, trying to avoid eye contact. "That's a bit hard to do when they all have big cards saying 'Love, Alastair,' isn't it?"

"I suggest you burn them," the Doctor said acerbicly, shutting off a Bunsen burner and dropping the charred results into the cube.

"Aye, maybe that would be for the best," Benton agreed. It was best there be no records of this incident. Even if it was aliens messing with the Brig's head, the media would make an absolute mess of it. "Call me when...well, when he's back to normal, would you?"

"Certainly," Liz said, shushing the Brigadier asking Benton to call him instead.

Benton shut the door, and the Doctor immediately sprang from his chair as if shocked.

"Something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all! I think I've found it! A cure!" He held up the cube, still blinking, though this time with a pleasing sequence of blues. "I just need a suitable vehicle for the counter-coffee, if you will."

"Tea?" The Brigadier stood up, finally showing some signs of life beyond angst. "I think I could use some. My head feels...funny." He swayed, settling back onto the chair as quickly as his wounded pride would allow.

"No, I don't think tea will do, not at all. Too...leafy," The Doctor said, putting a hand on his chin. He appeared lost in thought before a grin crossed his face, the answer found. "Liz, could you get me some hot chocolate?"


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