A/N: Minor spoilers for "Don't Cage the Wolf". Takes place a bit after the events of Chapter 6 in that particular fic. Enjoy!


The image of Rose Tyler's concerned face flashed in front of his eyes in time with the rhythmic staccato slaps across his face.

"Oi, stop hitting me! Why's it so dark? Are we in a prison? Have we been arrested!?" The Doctor jumped to his feet. "Oh, It's been too long, love a breakout! What are our assets?" He stuck his hands in his pockets, pulling out anything that seemed useful to several hastily thrown together escape plans. A banana and several cricket balls appeared from nowhere and were shoved into other pockets to make room for several cogs and a brightly colored yo-yo.

"We're in the control room," Rose replied, worry evident in her tone. "You alright? Why've you got a yo-yo?"

"Gravity testing; does this look Earth-like?" He threw the yo-yo a few times. "No of course not, it doesn't look anything, it's too dark to see. Hold on, you knew it was a yo-yo," he pointed his be-stringed finger accusingly in Rose's direction, "now that's hardly fair, how come you're allowed to see and I'm not?" the Doctor objected as he put away his knickknacks. "Oh, there they are, of course, now I don't need them," he grumbled to himself as he pulled out an impressive array of lock picks. "But," he paused, "if I can see them, we've got a real problem." He returned the tools grudgingly to his top pocket and clapped once in preparation, turning again towards Rose. "Let's discuss my imminent blindness, shall we?"

"Your wha'? You gonna be ok?" Rose laid a hand on his forehead – a leftover human gesture born of old habits – and she instantly reappeared in his sight.

"No worries, just a rapid-onset case of Gallifreyan Tacto-ablepsy. I'll be right as rain in a century or so. Until then, I can't see anything unless I'm touching it. Or it's touching me. Skin contact and all that."

"A century?"

"Or until it's shocked out of my system."

Rose brightened. "So it's like hiccups?" she asked, still feeling the side of his face in her check for fever.


"Yeah, you know. Last for ages unless you scare 'em out o' ya." She lifted her hand and waggled her fingers threateningly.

"Can't see you now, so I don't know what you're doing." Rose clasped his hand and reappeared. "That's better. What's a hiccup?"

Malicious glee sparked in Rose's eyes. "Don't want to ruin it for you. We'll save that for later. Be right back!" She gave him a quick kiss, and released his hand. He heard her footsteps recede to the far end of the room.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked, reaching out and gripping the nearby handrail to bring it into view.

"Nothing." He heard the grin in her voice, and felt suddenly uneasy.

"You're being coy and I'm horribly afflicted, that's hardly polite."

"Who's 'polite', Mister Rude-and-still-not-ginger." He heard the rustle of fabric a fraction of a second before it hit him in the face.

"Well, now I can't see," his muffled voice stated. "I mean, I couldn't before, but there's no use rubbing it in." He pulled the material off his face and looked at it. "Is this a jumper? This is your jumper, weren't you wearing this?"

"I was, yeah."

When the thought sunk in, the Doctor looked up sharply, squinting in the direction from which the jumper was thrown. "Oh, that's just," he looked down at the jumper again, "naughty. You know, you're going to get very cold."

"You sure?"

The Doctor felt two small hands grip the back of his jacket and the brush of Rose's lips against his neck as she pulled herself up on tiptoe. He caught a fleeting glimpse of her shirtless form as he turned, but lost sight of her when she broke the contact.

He took a few steps in her direction and was struck with a sock for his trouble. After another handful of seconds, a pair of trousers followed from a different angle.

The Doctor attempted to concentrate on his other senses as Rose slowly depleted her ammo. Her knickers landed on his head as he focused and zoned in on a heat signature. He didn't bother to brush them off.

"Ha!" the Doctor exclaimed, as his hands finally rested on a pair of petite shoulders. Clothed shoulders. He leaned in, but stopped as Amy Pond materialized in his vision.

Her eyes were squeezed shut and she looked as though she was trying horribly to pretend she wasn't there. Rory stood next to Amy, one hand in hers, the other covering his eyes.

"Oh… hello, Pond." the Doctor said to break the silence. As his surprise took hold, the TARDIS burst into light around him. He'd managed to make it to the front doors. Turning back, he spied only the forehead and bare shoulder of Rose, who was hiding herself behind the console.

"Doctor," Amy asked calmly, "what's going on?"

"He's got Time Lord Taxidermy and can't see anything!" Rose called.

"I don't care what he's got, I don't want to see anything"

"Please don't kiss my wife," Rory added, peering at the Doctor between two of his fingers.

"It's Gallifreyan Tacto-ablepsy, thank you." The Doctor released Amy's shoulders and stepped back. "And it's gone now; I can see just fine. Thanks to Amy," he remarked in Rose's direction. She grinned at him with her tongue between her teeth and shifted to hide a bit more behind the time rotor. He pulled the knickers off his head and used the elastic to launch the pink lace at her in response.

"Is it contagious?" Rory asked the Doctor.

Amy turned him 'round and pushed him back outside. "Oi, you want me to start throwin' things at yer head, just say so."

"Knickers wouldn't be so bad. Just not lamps and things."

The Ponds' voices trailed off as the door closed, and the Doctor turned back to see Rose wearing only an apprehensive expression.

"It is contagious, isn't it?" she asked.

"Only if you've been in close contact with the infected. Why?"
"Because now I can't see."

The Doctor smirked and reached for the buttons on his oxford. Ten seconds later, Rose Tyler was hit with a shirt.