Chapter 18

Lying on the top bunk with his hands behind his head, the Doctor was studiously ignorning Davros. He heard the gentle whine of the chair, as Davros rolled back and forth in agitation. His old arch enemy was not taking his unexpected confinement very well. He refused to talk, beyond the occasional mutterings to himself.

The Doctor however, was an old hand at this sort of thing. Instead of fretting over something he presently could do nothing about, he decided to direct his energies towards thinking. His mind wandered over the implications of what he'd seen so far. He knew that he was still in the dark as to why the Daleks were hiding in this remote location. Although, the Doctor was now beginning to form a few vague ideas. And every single one of them were unspeakable, to say the least.

Just then, he heard a faint noise coming from outside the cell door. A low hum. Sitting bolt upright, the Doctor had a smile plastered across his face as the door slid open.

"Hullo, Clara! All done with the guided tour?" He called out to her.

She frowned at him, casting a worried look over her shoulder. The Daleks guarding the cells had all been called away to the fight with the newly freed warriors. But she assumed that the Doctor wouldn't be left unguarded for much longer. And him shouting all over the place wasn't helping matters any.

"Yeah, Doctor." Clara nodded as she slipped into the cell, "But I didn't leave a tip and those grotty tour guides will be back any minute. Somehow, I don't think they'll be asking to have their photo taken with us."

"Pfft. If that's their attitude, they can forget about an autograph," the Doctor shrugged as he jumped to the floor.

"Halt! You cannot escape!" Protested Davros, as he attempted to block the doorway.

"Oh?" Raising amused eyebrows, the Doctor mocked, "How're you gonna' stop me, Davros? Run me over with your bath chair?"

"I will alert the guards!"

"Meh, I think not. Sorry."

"You cannot stop me, Doctor!"

"Maybe I can't. But my gaffer tape certainly can." The Doctor said, producing a small roll of tape from his trouser pocket.

Moments later, Davros was parked in a corner of the cell. His mouth was taped shut. And the Doctor made sure that his hands were safely secured to the arms of the chair, well away from the control switches.. As they exited the cell, Davros' one blue eye glared intensely at them, like some demented cylops.

Once they were on their way, Clara asked, "You carry gaffer tape around with you?"

"Not usually. I borrowed it from this nice American chap named MacGyver. That reminds me. I think I still have his Swiss army knife. Whoops," the Doctor winced, "hope he doesn't need it for anything."

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