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Day 27
“Passing Out the Punch"
“Of all the ridiculous things I’ve seen,” Alistair said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he raised an eyebrow, “This is the worst.”
“Lighten up, Brigadier,” said the Doctor. At least, that’s what Alistair assumed he’d said. It was difficult to understand him with those Vampire teeth he’d put in his mouth.
Utterly, utterly ridiculous.
“Aw,” Jo tilted her head almost enough for her witch hat to tip off of her head, “You didn’t bring a costume?”
“Certainly not.” Alistair unfolded his arms and balled his hands into fists at his sides. “And I expect all of this to be cleaned up immediately.”
“Oh look, the Brigadier’s here!” a sudden voice called from the side of the laboratory.
Yates, ducking beneath orange and purple streamers with Benton at his side. The pair of them were dressed as Kirk and Spock respectively, which made Alistair roll his eyes up toward the ceiling.
“Doctor,” he said, lowering his gaze back to the Time Lord - er, Vampire - “How many of my men have you roped into this?”
“I didn’t ‘rope them in’. I invited them.” The Doctor patted his arm with a smile that showed off his false fangs. “Don’t worry, old chap; you’re invited, too.”
Alistair shook his head, but smiled softly despite himself.
“No, I think I’ll start home. You carry on without me.”
“Oh,” the Doctor’s grin widened. “So you are permitting the party, then?”
Alistair rolled his eyes again.
“Reluctantly, yes. But I expect everything put back to normal by midnight. Is that clear, Doctor?”
“Yes, yes, Brigadier. You’ll never know we were here, come morning.”
“No, come midnight.”
“Yes, alright. Midnight.”
“Good.” Alistair gave the space one last look. It was decorated rather nicely, beakers awaiting drinks at the punch table, plastic spiders hanging on the TARDIS, ribbons dangling along the walls. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”
Jo stepped toward him before he could turn to go. “Oh, Brigadier?” she said. “Would you like a glass of punch before you go? There’s no alcohol in it.”
Alistair almost declined. But really they were all so kind to invite him here at all. And it looked like everyone was having a good time: Jo in her striped socks, Benton and Yates flipping their communicators open, the Doctor straightening out his shirt and cape with more precision than when he went to visit world leaders. So with yet another sigh, Alistair let his shoulders relax and gave Jo a small smile.
“Oh, why not,” he said. “Just one.”
Jo grinned from ear to ear, then dashed off to pour his glass. Alistair caught the Doctor’s eye - and his insufferable smirk - but he didn’t let it get to him. He had chosen to stay of his own free will. This whole thing was still ridiculous. Completely foolish; throwing parties at military headquarters. If any of his commanding officers found out about this, they’d have his head examined.
And yet…
Jo returned with a concoction that was a brilliant, slightly horrifying, shade of purple. Nothing on God’s green Earth, that Alistair knew of, had ever created such a vibrant color. Glancing warily to the Doctor, Alistair wondered what planet this drink had come from.
“Try it!” Jo smiled, folding her hands behind her back. “You got the first serving.”
“Ah,” Alistair grit his teeth as he stared at the strange substance in the beaker in his hands. “Which makes me the guinea pig, I suppose.”
“Brigadier,” the Doctor set his hands on his hips. “Have you ever known me to poison you?”
Alistair raised an eyebrow. “There’s a first time for everything, Doctor.”
“Oh, just take a sip. It’s from one of the safest planets I know.”
Alistair took a swig as the Doctor spoke. And then his words registered. Swallowing, Alistair turned wide eyes up to the Doctor.
“So this is from some other planet?”
“Yes, of course. Earth plants don’t have nearly the proper coloring. Well, not 20th century plants, at any rate.”
The drink tasted fine. Good, actually. Sweet, like a normal fruit punch. But with a small kick of something else that added an almost savory flavor. It was rather strange. But Alistair took another sip without hesitation.
“Well,” the Doctor grinned, clasping his hands together, “Looks like we’ve finally gotten the Brigadier into the party.”
“You win this round, Doctor,” Alistair said, blinking a few times, “But...huh, that’s rather strange.”
“What is?” asked the Doctor.
Alistair raised his free hand to his forehead, laughing nervously as he continued to blink slowly.
“You’re sure there’s no alcohol in this? I feel rather tired all of a sudden.”
Jo popped a piece of candy corn into her mouth. “That happened to me last night. Maybe it’s all of these early mornings.”
“Perhaps.”
Alistair shook his head. But that, unfortunately, only made the room spin. Orange and purple swirled together for a moment, jostling even when he had again stilled his head. When finally everything settled back into place, the Doctor was staring at him.
He was no longer smiling.
“Brigadier?” he asked. “Are you alright?”
“I...I’m not sure.” Alistair set the beaker on the tabletop. But he must’ve miscalculated, because the glass ended up on its side rather than its base. Punch spilled out, dripping down onto the floor. His shaking hand went to pick it back up, but he missed, swiping at air.
“Alistair?!” the Doctor grabbed him by the shoulder. “Do you need to sit down?”
“Yes. Yes, I think…”
“Alistair!”
Vision dimming, Alistair briefly saw the Doctor’s ridiculous Vampire teeth as he shouted. Then the floor grew in front of him, gravity taking a hold on him. Somehow he ended up enwrapped in the Doctor’s cloaked arms, looking up at the man’s wild white hair and his still-vampiric teeth.
Jo’s anxious face appeared next, gazing down at him with her witch hat still sitting atop her head.
This really was the strangest emergency Alistair had ever experienced.
“Don’t worry, old chap,” the Doctor soothed, “I’ll figure this out.”
“You’d better,” Alistair bit back, before his eyes fluttered shut. He breathed in deeply, and then forced his eyes open again. “And Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“This party is officially cancelled.”
“Noted.”
With that, Alistair let his head fall back against the cloak beneath him, drifting into a sudden and deep sleep. The Doctor looked up to find Benton and Yates crouching on the opposite side of the Brigadier.
“What’s happened?”
“It seems,” said the Doctor, looking over to the glowing purple bowl on the lab bench, “Someone’s poisoned the punch bowl.”