The look the clone was giving him was never a good thing. That look had the Doctor's "I have a brilliant idea and you'll just need to come along until I finish figuring it out" expression all over it.
He took a step back, keeping an eye on the Other Him and frowning. This had the potential to become very bad, very quickly.
"Listen? That's your plan? Our orders are to deal with you." The hand on his gun tightened, making it obvious how Other-Him intended to follow his orders.
He almost brought a hand to his mouth to make sure he hadn't been talking without realizing it, it would hardly have been the most insane thing he'd done in the past few days. He was pretty sure that Other-Him wouldn’t bother with the stun setting on the energy weapons.
That was downright eerie, queer and off and wrong. His voice, but none of his inflection. His body, but the movement was all wrong. He was fairly certain if it came to a fight he could take himself out pretty quickly.
"Doctor, what’s he doing?" He swallowed, uncertain what the other man was planning. Uncertain what the clone was planning, as that seemed vastly more unpredictable. The Doctor had his own rhythm, the way he did things, this guy might look like the Doctor, but what was in his head could barely resemble the Doctor at all.
If the Doctor’s mental touch had been a whisper, the new guy had no volume control. Rory was old, but he was only human and the invading fingers were incredibly skilled for what passed as a Time Lord infant, no matter what face it was wearing. Ah, he didn’t like being called an infant, did he? Sorry about that then, friend, that’s what he was. The Doctor was over nine hundred years old; this child was only a day at most. Newborn and ignorant and curious about the world he found himself suddenly inhabiting. He started to struggle, to resist the probing fingers, prying memories of Amy and his travels with the Doctor and very quickly grasping just how long Rory had been alive.
1/2
He took a step back, keeping an eye on the Other Him and frowning. This had the potential to become very bad, very quickly.
"Listen? That's your plan? Our orders are to deal with you." The hand on his gun tightened, making it obvious how Other-Him intended to follow his orders.
He almost brought a hand to his mouth to make sure he hadn't been talking without realizing it, it would hardly have been the most insane thing he'd done in the past few days. He was pretty sure that Other-Him wouldn’t bother with the stun setting on the energy weapons.
That was downright eerie, queer and off and wrong. His voice, but none of his inflection. His body, but the movement was all wrong. He was fairly certain if it came to a fight he could take himself out pretty quickly.
"Doctor, what’s he doing?" He swallowed, uncertain what the other man was planning. Uncertain what the clone was planning, as that seemed vastly more unpredictable. The Doctor had his own rhythm, the way he did things, this guy might look like the Doctor, but what was in his head could barely resemble the Doctor at all.
If the Doctor’s mental touch had been a whisper, the new guy had no volume control. Rory was old, but he was only human and the invading fingers were incredibly skilled for what passed as a Time Lord infant, no matter what face it was wearing. Ah, he didn’t like being called an infant, did he? Sorry about that then, friend, that’s what he was. The Doctor was over nine hundred years old; this child was only a day at most. Newborn and ignorant and curious about the world he found himself suddenly inhabiting. He started to struggle, to resist the probing fingers, prying memories of Amy and his travels with the Doctor and very quickly grasping just how long Rory had been alive.