"When I say run, run!"
"I already am running, hurry up!"
"Blimey, those things can shift, can't they?"
"Really, I hadn't noticed. Oh god, they're catching up."
"Ooof. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…."
"Get up, come on, the TARDIS is just over there."
"I'm trying. Oh, that hurts. You try running in three inch heels."
Martha Jones sighed and hauled the Doctor to his feet. "I have…"
They made it back to the TARDIS just ahead of their pursuers with a good deal of limping, complaining and swearing. The Doctor had discarded the heels and was now wearing his wig and slinky red dress with his battered white trainers.
"…Matriarchal society," he was explaining, "wouldn't have got within five hundred feet of the palace as a man."
"So you decided to dress up as a woman?"
"And you think all women leg it across alien quarries in impractical dresses and three inch heels. Doctor, what sort of women do you know?"