"C'mon, give me that!" A five-foot-tall child that resembled your boss was reaching for the test tube you held high above your head with greedy little hands.

This was the Doctor’s latest punishment: babysitting his defective clone. Rho was far too small (and unstable) to be trusted with real lab work, but no one quite had the heart to get rid of him. And so, the little menace had been allowed to stay. Every day, a new unfortunate soul was assigned as his caretaker. Today, that person was you.

“Just because you’re taller than me doesn’t mean I won’t break your knees!” he snapped. The threat might’ve carried more weight if it hadn’t been delivered in a sulky voice, accompanied by the most adorable pout. Still, you weren’t about to underestimate Rho. After all, this was the child that grown into the man you now call Dottore.