The Doctor notes the moment his other shifts his gaze to the EEG, the sudden intent fascination of his gaze, the way he leans in closer and pushes his glasses further up his nose as though to bring the readings into clearer focus (though they both know the glasses don't do anything—funny, isn't it, he thinks, that they still wear them, even alone or around each other). He remembers the first time he read the presence of his TARDIS as part of him, knit into the signature of his mind—marveling and disturbed by how well she fit, as though his brain structure had been missing an element before, a gap that had now been filled.
He'll have to point out his genetics notes to his other, later. In any given strand of his DNA, a fraction of the gene sequences are undetectable using even the most advanced medical instruments—he had to develop analogous devices that could sense and render fourth-and-higher-dimensional structures according to first-to-third dimensional principles before he could map the "missing" genes. The sections aren't new—nothing's been added to his genetic structure—it's only that a fraction of it (and which fraction can change at any time) no longer exists in standard physical space.
He has yet to work through all of the implications of that, including the fact that his RNA polymerase can read and transcribe hypodimensionally-encoded data.
But explaining that to his other can come later. Right now, the other Doctor's offering the mental contact that can initiate this experiment—the Doctor in black can feel the undisturbed quiet of his mind, as he lets his shields down.
He puts his hands out as his other leans over him, reaching up to touch his other's temples as his other's hands position themselves over his.
Before he can catch himself, he licks out into his other's mind, a brief but intimate intrusion, like tongue in a casual greeting kiss, tasting his other's silence.
no subject
He'll have to point out his genetics notes to his other, later. In any given strand of his DNA, a fraction of the gene sequences are undetectable using even the most advanced medical instruments—he had to develop analogous devices that could sense and render fourth-and-higher-dimensional structures according to first-to-third dimensional principles before he could map the "missing" genes. The sections aren't new—nothing's been added to his genetic structure—it's only that a fraction of it (and which fraction can change at any time) no longer exists in standard physical space.
He has yet to work through all of the implications of that, including the fact that his RNA polymerase can read and transcribe hypodimensionally-encoded data.
But explaining that to his other can come later. Right now, the other Doctor's offering the mental contact that can initiate this experiment—the Doctor in black can feel the undisturbed quiet of his mind, as he lets his shields down.
He puts his hands out as his other leans over him, reaching up to touch his other's temples as his other's hands position themselves over his.
Before he can catch himself, he licks out into his other's mind, a brief but intimate intrusion, like tongue in a casual greeting kiss, tasting his other's silence.