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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Domesticity
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Published:
2015-09-17
Words:
465
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
16
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1
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204

Dinner for One

Work Text:

The Doctor put down his screwdriver and stretched out his arms. Glancing at his watch he realised he’d been working on this panel for a good nine hours straight. Only then did he remember he also hadn’t eaten for nine hours. The thought made him hungry suddenly. It had been some time since he’d been working on the back up systems so he would be closer to the old kitchen than the new one. It should still work fine. Cleaning his hands on a rag, the Doctor made his way through the older, Victorian styled corridors towards the old kitchen. Coffee first, he thought. Then he could decide what to make for dinner.

When did he ever think that an old style coffee percolator would have been a good idea? Oh wait, that was his seventh regeneration’s idea. He shuddered at the memory. That had been so very over the top that layout. A large sniff of the coffee and he poured the ground coffee in and set it perking. Now, something to eat. He looked at the old model of food dispenser. There was some dust on it but nothing that he was worried about. The Doctor had to admit that he did prefer Clara’s wish to cook things rather than have them just dispensed as he had always done so before. He smiled. She was actually a decent cook too. But, Clara wasn’t here and he was hungry and he didn’t want to cook. Fiddling with the settings he set it to a beef dinner with potatoes and some greens.

The coffee finished burbling so he poured himself a cup and threw in his sugar. Sipping it, he made a face and threw in half as much again sugar before trying it again. Better, he thought, if strong. Tapping a finger on the counter he was leaning against, he drank more coffee. Still not quite happy with the taste of it, he chucked in another sugar cube. Then the dispenser pinged with the old familiar ready tone and he grabbed the meal from it. Sitting down at the small table, he had eaten at least four mouthfuls in quick succession before he stopped eating. The Doctor made a choking noise and spat the mouthful of food out and onto the plate. Grabbing the coffee, he gulped it madly to wash his mouth out. Looking at the plate of food it looked fine but it tasted horrible. Another glance at the coffee cup and the rest of his coffee, he made a face of disgust and chucked the lot into a waste bin.

There was a good restaurant over on Che’ Maiori that he could go to, he thought. Leaving the old kitchen, he made a note to himself to delete the room altogether.

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