“Oy, you bad, bad girl!” The Doctor’s lips spread wide, despite himself. He scrubs at a spot on his tweed.
Eyes bulging with the desperation to escape, for various reasons, the Master leans as far as he can with Rassilon’s hand still clutching him by the throat. He manages a half-metre in the general direction of the door, before gagging. “Yes, yes! He’s a jelly baby and you’re a chocolate bar! This isn’t a sweets shoppe and I’m not Sinter Klaus and I want to see what she’s wearing under that cloak, blast you! ‘Cause after this day, one of you had better be wearing a corset!”
River says, “That would be me, Master. See?” She parts the folds of the black silk robe, revealing a black velvet corset. “Mine’s a pregnancy corset. And the best part is, these don’t make pâté out of your organs, because they’re bigger on the inside.” She smiles at the Doctor. “That was really an ingenious idea, making transdimensional corsets. Quite comfy, too.”
The Doctor’s hand cups his sharpish bump as he blushes and giggles. Then River cups it, and he giggles some more. “Sorry Koschei… that was only my fifth body, thanks. No repeats.” Somehow, he’s wiggled and squirreled and wriggled himself until he’s sprawled half out of River’s lap. “Besides, it’s not my fault you just like to look.”
River pets his cheek and grins.
A groan emits from the the Master’s half-strangled throat. “Do not. Do that. In front of me. I’ll barf. But back to the point. I missed that? I bloody missed that?” Sensing a continuation of the spectacle, he sticks a finger as far down his throat as he can manage, then makes a gagging noise…