Emerald Green

Eleven

Emerald Green

Chapter Thirty

Eleven

"Oh! Hello, there," the other Doctor greeted, seated in a green velvet chair, wearing his beige tweed jacket and red bowtie. "Mind untying me? I'm a bit uncomfortable." Molly then noticed the ropes around his wrists and ankles, tying him to the chair. The ropes looked like they were made of silver.

Molly looked from the other Doctor to – well, her Doctor. There was the slightest difference in age between them. The other Doctor looked younger. More like Matt Smith in Season 5 or 6 than at the end of Season 7. Her Doctor seemed fascinated, yet hesitant.

"Go on," said the other Doctor. "Sonic me. You'll see who I am in a mo." He paused. "Well, I'm you. Obviously. How I am, I should say. How I exist, I mean, not how I'm feeling. As I said, I'm feeling uncomfortable."

Molly watched the Doctor – her Doctor – quickly take the sonic out and begin scanning him. He looked at the results, and the look of confusion melted away, replaced by a look of pure joy that confused Molly, given their circumstances.

He put the sonic back in his pocket, and rubbed his hands together. "Well. Well. Hello again, Doctor."

"Hello again, Doctor," said the other Doctor, a similar smile on his face.

Her Doctor pointed at him, then pointed at Molly, then back at him. "Brilliant! Oh, this is brilliant! I told you your molecular memory could survive."

"I'm glad we were right about that," replied the other Doctor. He tried to lift his arms, but the ropes held him tight. "Could I have a hand?"

"Right," the Doctor said, charging forward to have a look at the silver ropes.

Molly looked from her Doctor, to the other Doctor. Your molecular memory can survive this, you know. She remembered it now.

She looked the other Doctor up and down. "Wait. This is the Ganger Doctor?"

"I'd prefer John Smith, if it's all the same," replied the other Doctor. "I mean, I prefer 'the Doctor', since I am the Doctor, but if it's a choice between 'Ganger Doctor' and...and..." The sentence drifted as he returned the gesture of looking her up and down, and his eyes went wide. He turned his head towards her Doctor, who was on the ground examining how the ropes around his ankles were tied. "When did we become friends with Lydia Hart?"

Oh. Right. They were going to have to do this again. "Guess again," she said, a small smirk on her face.

"...not friends?" He attempted a guess.

"Not Lydia Hart," her Doctor corrected. She couldn't see his face, but knew he had a similar expression from his voice.

The other Doctor's eyes narrowed as he looked at her face. "Looks like Lydia Hart."

"Looks exactly like Lydia Hart," replied her Doctor.

Molly scowled. "He means Lydia Hart looks exactly like me."

She saw the 'aha' moment in the other Doctor's eyes, just before they instead filled with denial. He shook his head. "No. No. You're not..."

"Not what?"

"You're not Molly Quinn."

She shrugged. "First time I've been informed of that." Then she paused, and looked at her Doctor as he pulled at the ropes, freeing one of the other Doctor's ankles. "Actually, nevermind. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."