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He'd paced, drunk tea, watched horrible B-grade horror movies, surfed the Nexus Internet, bought a dreadful wall clock and an incomprehensible object d'art taller than he was, drunk more tea, downloaded the entire first season of So You Think You Can Dance, while pacing some more, drinking more tea, swallowing stimulant pills, watching some horrible infomercial about Pilates balls and snerking thinly at the inevitable images of people looking incredibly silly using them...

And after two days of this, he finally fell over on the sofa. In the condition he was in, he couldn't fight sleep for long, no matter how frightened he was.

Date: 2007-06-06 11:20 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] questdreamer.livejournal.com
Carter nods and bows to him, quite deeply indeed. "Fare thee well, Lord Rassilon. May your travels be unseen."

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Rassilon

September 2012

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