Unapologetic crack. The Doctor and Amy run into an old foe. "Oh, don't ruin my fun, Doctor," he interrupted, climbing off the horse and fondly petting its nose, feeding it a sugar cube. "Let your Companion see what a real man smells like."

The TARDIS Is Now Diamonds

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, not good, not good," the Doctor muttered to himself as he circled the console, checking various readings and hoping that he was very very wrong about where they'd landed. "Not good, Pond! NOT GOOD."

"Doctor. Stop," Amy insisted, finally chasing him down and hauling him back by the coat before he could get to more fiddling of knobs and pressing of buttons. "What's going on?"

He sent her a weary look and pulled himself out of her grip, then flicked on the scanner. "See?" he said imperiously, gesturing at the completely, obviously, blatantly blank screen. "That. That's what's going on. We're in trouble."

Amy paused. "Good sort of trouble or bad sort of trouble?"

"Good trouble is adventure Pond, have I taught you nothing?" the Doctor declared, and threw his hands in the air. "Oh no, I know what this is, but it can't be, not after this long."

"What," Amy pronounced, nudging him.

He drew himself up, dignified, and said, "Let's go outside."

She looked startled, for some reason. "But you said this was bad trouble."

"Eh, we'll manage," the Doctor said, waving it off, and took Amy's hand. "Come on!"

The TARDIS doors opened, and while the Doctor tried not to sigh openly at the frivolity displayed in the scene before them, Amy laughed her little girl Amelia Pond laugh and ran out into the middle of the sunny beach. "Oh, it's gorgeous," she gushed, "look at the water!"

"It's an illusion – be careful," the Doctor insisted, and grimaced as his shoes got wet as the tide rolled in. "I know you're here, where are you?" he called out, now getting a little cross.

"Hello, Doctor," a deep voice answered, and Amy turned abruptly. "And hello, miss."

The Doctor put an arm out to defend her, except she looked less terrified than playing the blushing schoolgirl. "Oh honestly, Amy," he sighed, and followed her gaze.

There was a tall, shirtless, and handsome black man. On a horse. The Doctor hadn't seen a woman look so close to fainting in joy since Shea Stadium. "Amy, don't look – "

"Oh, don't ruin my fun, Doctor," he interrupted, climbing off the horse and fondly petting its nose, feeding it a sugar cube. "Let your Companion see what a real man smells like."

"I'm Amy," she volunteered, a little tremulously.

The Doctor hadn't seen Amy look nervous once, certainly not in front of a man. "AMY," he insisted. "This man is a Time Lord, he's called the Celestial Toy – "

The Toymaker cleared his throat. "Look at your Time Lord," he instructed Amy, and she did so. "now look back to me."

"Now this isn't funny," the Doctor said crossly.

"Now look back to him," and Amy's head swung in his direction, "now look back to me." Amy was beaming now. "Sadly... he isn't me."

The Doctor covered Amy's eyes and glared. "She's not one of your toys," he insisted. "What do you want?"

"I think you know that, Doctor," the Toymaker said, still wearing that stupid cheesy smile. "Look down," he told Amy, and then the Doctor looked between the two, but they were gone.

"... with the man your man could smell like," he vaguely heard, and turned to see Amy giggling away at the Toymaker in a boat.

"NOT FUNNY," the Doctor shouted at him. "'Sadly he isn't me', at least I don't play with dolls," he muttered, and went to find a boat.