The Doctor approached the girl.
"What's your name?"
"Um… Mia. Look, we haven't got a lot of time. Can you just grab me that gun?"
"I don't like guns," said the Doctor. "We're doing this without weapons."
Mia scowled.
"So you want to be sacrificed to the Tampeyan gods?"
"No, no, no, but I hate guns! No guns!" hissed the Doctor, adjusting his sonic sunglasses.
Mia flipped her fiery red hair off of her shoulders. "Get out of the way, old man."
"I am not an old man!" cried the Doctor, frustrated.
"You said you were two thousand and fourteen."
"Yes, but I look young. That's the point. I look- "
"Just forget it, sweetie."
Sweetie? Nobody called the Doctor "Sweetie" and got away with it. That is, nobody except her. River Song. The Doctor's heart ached whenever he thought of her. They had travelled together for twenty-four years before the night on Darillium ended. But she was gone now; saved forever to the library's database.
"Don't call me that."
His voice was serious, even somewhat aggressive, and Coral took the hint.
"Ok. No guns, no nicknames. You're boring, Doctor."
"I'm not boring! I've got sonic sunglasses and I play the guitar! I'm the Doctor and I'm cool!"
He made a face.
"Sorry, that's not me anymore. Different face, different body. I used to be cool and now I'm… what am I? Well, never mind. We've got a job to do. Let's go save these four thousand people."
"Four thousand and three, Doctor. Come on."