Paralysed from the neck down, all the Doctor could do was hope Amy got here quick smart. Well, he wasn't strictly paralysed. He could move fine- if not a little stiffly due to sitting still for two days solid, and on vaguely wobbly knees due to lack of food for said period of time- if he wasn't bound so tightly to this damned chair! The Doctor glared at the man encircling him. The man, named Zeiron; after his home planet, was a rather handsome man compared to the rest of his race. Although, stood next to the Doctor- a humanoid Time Lord- or indeed a human and most other species, he was rather hideous. Roughly four-thousand years old (he lost count at 52), Zeiron sported florescent yellow skin, three eyes and several pairs of nostrils. No mouth.
"This is getting a little boring," the Doctor sighed. He had an itch on his left eyebrow. "It's been two days, Zeiron. You have my screwdriver, exceedingly strong wire rope tying me to this extremely uncomfortable chair, and it unfortunately seems no-one is bounding heroically to my rescue. Tell me, what were you planning to do?"
"My master told me to wait for his signal," the captor grunted, throwing less than a glance at his captive.
"How do you do that?" the Doctor asked, merely curious.
"How do I do what?" the creature snapped.
"Talk!" the Time Lord exclaimed. "I mean, you have no mouth!"
Zeiron grunted again. "I speak through my ears."
The Doctor began to laugh, stopping abruptly as all three of Zeiron's eyes were glaring at him. "You're serious?! Ingenious…"
"No more talk," Zeiron spoke in a low and guttural tone. "You're voice bores me."
"Oh," the Doctor rolled his big, hazel eyes. "Charming."
Round about now, Amy Pond was screaming. It was a half yell- half laugh of panic, as she tried clumsily to gain control of the TARDIS. She only hoped it knew where to go and how to get there, because she had no clue. Suddenly, it jerked to a bumpy stop.
The Doctor's head snapped up, as did his attention, as the unmistakeable vworping sounds of TARDIS engines filled the dingy room. Zeiron roared with anger.
"WHAT IS THIS?" he cried as the flickering form of a blue police box appeared. A young woman with red hair and plenty of freckles stepped out of one of the small doors.
"Yes!" she grinned. "I've got the right place!" She turned to Zeiron conversationally and said, with an air of chat and gossip, "Would you believe it; first two times I ended up on Pluto- bloody cold- and the last stop I wound up in Whitechapel in 1888! Bit scary if you consider the circumstances of that year and that place. I was half expecting to see a man in a top hat and black cape-"
"Amy!" Amy turned to see a rather tired-looking, yet annoyed Doctor. She blinked.
"Sorry," she smiled. "New sights, new sounds. Is this the bit where I save you?"
"This is."
Zeiron shook his head and blinked each eye at a different time. It looked rather odd.
"I'm guessing he's the villain?" Amy stuck a thumb towards the dumbstruck alien.
The Doctor nodded. "Indeed. Watch out, they're a brilliant fighter."
Amy glared indignantly. "So am I!"
"I know," the Doctor blinked. "I was talking to him."
"Ah," Amy said simply, before artfully swinging into action. She kicked and punched and so did Zeiron, and as he leaped for a high kick Amy rolled underneath him. She snatched up the Doctor's sonic screwdriver from a small table behind and pointed it at the Doctor.
"Amy, you really shouldn't use that unless you know-"
But Amy wasn't listening, and hit the first button she saw. The wire rope binding the Time Lord exploded with a large amount of sparks, and he flinched violently, squeezing his eyes shut. Pushing the remains of smouldering cables away, the Doctor stood up. He swayed, steadied himself, and ran to Amy. Zeiron aimed a kick at the younger man, but over-shot and toppled over. The Doctor grinned, grabbed Amy's hand and stuck one arm out in front of him, fist balled.
"To the TARDIS!" he cried. Amy paused. "What?"
"Don't," she said, thinly veiling a grin. "Just… don't do that again."