The Fugitive watched him, eyed the money exchanging hands, the clockwork parts entering the Doctor's clutch. The more this man willed him to leave, the more he wished to stay. His emotions had always worked that way, the opposite of expected being so very enticing to him.
It was a long pause before the Fugitive said anything, long enough that the Doctor almost looked like he was about to go, nearly managed his getaway. Then the Fugitive asked, "Do you have but one patient, sir?"
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It was a long pause before the Fugitive said anything, long enough that the Doctor almost looked like he was about to go, nearly managed his getaway. Then the Fugitive asked, "Do you have but one patient, sir?"