"See? Aren't they wonderful?"

Amy slapped the table. "That's what I've been saying!"

"Yes, I quite agree. Now, if you don't mind—"

River Song put her hands on her hips. "Well, Doctor, this is the first time you've been eager to put your shirt on. I'm not sure I like it."

"This is also the first time I've had it forcibly removed in the presence of a—"

"Ah, Doctor, he's harmless. Aren't you, now?" Amy cooed.

"Amy, we do not coo at Daleks! And that one's anything but harmless, mark my words!"

"I AM NOT OFFENDED."

"It's not your offense I was worried about. River, please!"

River sighed. "Oh, all right. If you insist." She walked a few paces and picked the Doctor's shirt up off the ground. Then she smiled. "I think it needs to be ironed first."

"Give me my shirt, River."

"Perhaps I'll wash it while I'm at it. Can't have you wearing a dirty shirt, now can we?"

He held out his hand. "Give it here."

"And if I'm going to wash your shirt, I should probably get those trousers of yours, too."

"River! My shirt! Now!"

River raised her eyebrows. "Well. If you're going to be testy about it…."

"I am most certainly testy!"

"Then I don't know if I should give you what you want."

"River Song, you will give me my shirt this instant!"

River opened her mouth to speak, but a loud click and a flash of light cut her off.

Silence followed.

All three stared at the Dalek.

"Dalek," the Doctor said, his voice measured, "why did you take a picture of my abs?"

The Dalek was silent a moment.

"WHAT ABS?"