Author's Note: This is one of those stories I started on the spur of the moment and now really wish I hadn't. Still, I'm not going to delete it (as it's only short), but I'm warning you now that this writing is far from my best. I think it's a little forced in places, but like I said, I wish I hadn't started it. Still, it will get as much as I can possibly give it, considering the circumstances. I never was good at making up aliens.

Chapter Two – Corridors

So far, he had tripped over three times and whacked his head on the ceiling beams once. The Doctor could usually cope when one of his senses was diminished, heightening his others. Yet, walking into a house which had no light – none at all – without warning would be a shock to anyone's system.

The metallic object on the floor he tripped over echoed around the house, like he had just kicked a water pail. He swore, only slightly, but was still greeted with persistent and irritating warnings from Thixx.

"Shhh! Angry man must learn to be quiet if he is ever going to survive in this place! You two must wait here. Thixx will lead the way downstairs, find light that you need."

There was a creaking sound of a door opening, and footsteps pattering hurriedly away into nothing.

The Doctor tutted loudly, shuffling along the floor without picking his feet up. His shoe caught in a hold in the floor and he stumbled again, this time careering forward enough to knock into Rose.

"Oi, watch it," she scolded in a hiss.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not at all sure if he meant it. It wasn't his fault if he couldn't see a hand in front of his face, was it? "Still think this is a good idea?"

"Shut up."

He smiled gently to himself when he heard the grin in her voice.

The Doctor's vision slowly crept back to him, his Gallifreyan senses aiding him as his eyes adjusted. He blinked and looked around, peering around the darkened, greyscale room. Such was Time Lord night-vision. Everything in here was minuscule. There were tiny chairs and tables, and the floor was absolutely littered with junk and strange shapes hidden under rugs. Not a speck of light shone from anywhere. It was strange, he mused, how bright and colourful the world outside was, and how sinfully boring it was in here.

Then his gaze shot to Rose and his breath hitched. Truth be told, he had not had much use for this vision of his, seeing as there was almost always light where he went. He had rarely, if ever, seen a human in such a way. But it was not the accentuated, paled curve of her cheeks, or the strange translucency of her clothes that caught his attention, but the spike that was jutting out just inches from the side of her head.

A very sharp spike, that glistened malevolently as he watched it. If Rose moved an inch or so to her right, she'd wound herself seriously. And his first aid supplies were locked in the TARDIS.

Careful, so as not to disturb her or make her jump, the Doctor edged along the floor to her.

"Rose, don't move," he ordered softly, and was surprised – if not mildly embarrassed – by the huskiness in his voice. He cleared his throat.

"Doctor, what – ?" She began to turn, but he cut across insistently.

"I mean it Rose, don't move a muscle. Hold still."

She did so, frozen in mid turn. Her eyes were on him, though he doubted she could see anything. His suspicions were confirmed when she frowned, and asked, "Doctor, where are you? What's wrong?"

He crept to her side then, slowly, looped his arm through hers and curled his palm to her wrist. She gasped in surprise, but he waited until he slid his hand down to hers and pulled her gently away from the wall until he spoke.

"It's dark in here," he offered thickly. Oh, that's clever, he berated himself mentally. Charm her with your eloquence, see if she doesn't just fall at your feet.

It didn't help that he heard her giggle slightly, and he withdrew his hand.

"Er, sorry," he coughed, stepping slightly away. "There was something over there, on the wall. Nasty thing. Could have skewered your head, and then what would I have done?"

"Oh." She seemed a little put out, looking around herself somewhat uncertainly. She then turned, back to the direction he had been standing, and the Doctor smiled at the way her nose crinkled with thought. "I can't... see anything..." she said eventually.

"Well, no," he shrugged.

She stared towards the direction of his voice, eyes wide. "But you can?"

The Doctor nodded, then realising how fruitless that was, confirmed.

"How?" she asked, after a moment.

"Time Lord."

It must have been a sufficient enough answer, he supposed, because she didn't push the matter. Still, quite how being Lord of Time helped him with seeing in the dark, he didn't know. Maybe he'd eaten a lot of carrots when he was younger. Maybe he was nocturnal. He'd always wondered about that, actually. There was always a possibility that his people could have been nocturnal – mind, that was possibly more to do with the fact that they barely slept. For good reasons, he reminded himself.

The Doctor was so lost in thought, he jumped when the floor just to the left of his foot opened. A trap door, he mused idly. Because that's not suspicious, at all.

Thixx poked his head out of the floor and eyed him suspiciously, probably completely unaware that the Doctor could see every movement. Then his gaze fell to Rose and he looked almost hungrily at her, beady eyes narrowing and teeth baring. The Doctor felt an instant tension rise in his stomach, his need to protect her spilling out into balled fists and anger creeping across his face.

Still, Thixx opened the trap door completely and hopped out, leaving it open behind him. Warm light filtered gently through, adding colour to the Doctor's fairly bland vision. He smiled at Rose, briefly, who smiled back – no matter how beautiful she may have looked in shades of grey, he would take colour any day.

"You must be welcomed into the village," Thixx almost grumbled, pottering about the strange house. He picked things up, moved them, and put them down again. He peered under rugs and squeaked away from them, then blinked up appealingly to Rose. "There is space downstairs for the guests. Then there is the banquet, oh the banquet. Master will want the guests. He will like them very much. You must go, now, down and get ready. Thixx will come and get you; Onro will tell him when. Go on, go on." He waved towards the trapdoor with his claw-like arm.

Rose frowned at him uncertainly, looking up to the Doctor for his acceptance. He nodded. "S'pose we'll have to both go down. You first."

She made another crack at his cowardice, and for the moment, he let her think so. In a way, she was right. Because he trusted Thixx about as much as he trusted a Dalek, and look what happened last time he'd done that? Rose would always go in front of him so that he could keep an eye on her. If he left her behind, if something happened when he wasn't looking – well, quite honestly, he'd never forgive himself.

Not to mention the fact her mother would never forgive him, either.

The staircase was not so much a staircase as a rickety ladder. It shook with his weight and he swore the attachments were pulling themselves out of the dirt. Everything was so tiny. He had to squash himself up to fit through the ridiculous sized opening, and even then, he had to hold his breath. He skirted down the rest of the ladder with difficulty – only to turn around and come shockingly face to face with Rose.

"Hi," she said, somewhat awkwardly, trying to ease herself away from him. "There's, um... not much space."

She could say that again. The Doctor cast a glance around and was appalled at what he saw. The room – if he could call it a room – was hollowed out from the ground, dirt walls everywhere, with a few bits and bobs of tables and furniture. Width ways, it was not even a metre, more stretching in length than anything else.

Rose bent and picked her rucksack from the floor, which she had thrown down first, and edged along the room. There were rugs on the floor, but they didn't serve as much help, only getting dirty. Round doors were set into some of the walls, three in total. She edged into the centre of the room and around a tiny writing desk, heading to one of the doors. The Doctor shifted from one foot to the other, thankful for the lights that were set into the walls. They glowed warm orange, offering him good enough light to see – he didn't think he'd appreciate Time Lord Night Vision the entire time he was here. Took rather a lot out of him, like leaving your car headlights when you park overnight.

Thixx appeared by his feet from nowhere. He jumped and blinked down, folding his arms over his chest. The alien took no notice, bumbling over to the side of the room Rose was at. The Doctor watched him carefully, his suspicion not abating.

"You will stay in here," Thixx advised, pushing open the door hurriedly. "Thixx has made up good places to stay. The banquet, oh yes, the banquet and ball, they are soon. Very soon. Must get ready. Must shoo the angry man away and make sure pretty lady gets ready. Oh, yes, angry man not welcome. He brings the woman; Master likes the woman. Angry man stand, and watch, and – "

Thixx was shuffling back to the Doctor, now, attempting to hurry him out of one of the other doors.

The Doctor was having none of it. He stood with his arms folded, completely relaxed, and stared down to the little creature with venom. "I think you'll find," he said tersely, practically hissing out every letter like a serpent, "that I'll be coming to this ball, Thixx."

The alien looked up to him, astounded. "Oh, no, angry man cannot come. Master will not like it. Onro says that bad things will come, that the pretty lady will get stol– "

"Just try and stop me," the Doctor interrupted, eyes so concentrated on the creature it almost hurt. "Yours isn't a race for violence, I believe. Now, Thixx, forget all this ball stuff. Tell me – who's this master of yours?"

"He pretends he cares, but he does not," Thixx spat in return, his voice rising to a new pitch. "He pretends he wants to help, but Onro can see it. Onro can see he wants to burn us all. He... he wants..." Thixx's eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, crawling away as the Doctor's gaze followed him. "He wants to see me dead! He wants the whole world to burn at his fingertips! Oh, Onro was right. The angry man will kill us all!"

He wasted no more time down with them, instead scurrying desperately up the ladder and slamming the trap door shut behind him. There was a hollow click, then silence.

The Doctor hadn't moved a muscle, staring in shock. He turned on his feet to Rose, who was watching him with just as much surprise on her face, her rucksack draped over one of her shoulders.

She looked at him expectantly.

"What?" the Doctor asked, a hint of disdain in his voice. "I didn't do anything!"

"Sure you didn't, Doctor," Rose smirked sarcastically and before giving him a chance to answer, she turned and looked uncertainly at the door Thixx had pointed to. "Think we should go to this 'ball', then?"

He shifted from one foot to another. Much as he didn't want to admit to the fact that they were probably safe here – they couldn't exactly go back to the TARDIS and apparently 'somewhere else' wasn't an option – it didn't mean he wanted to do anything that might change that.

"I don't think we really have a choice," he sighed at last, after weighing up all his options.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," she shot back with sarcasm. The Doctor was a little taken aback and stepped towards her.

"You're the one who wanted to come explore this place. It's a ball, Rose. Balls and Banquets – they're hardly my style."

Rose turned back to him with a slightly wary eye. "Yeah? Well maybe your 'style' can just shove it for the night, all right?"

He stood a moment, blinking with shock.

"What's got into you?" he asked quietly, because this wasn't the Rose who had woken up this morning in the TARDIS, he was quite sure.

"I... I dunno," she stuttered, looking just as shocked herself, and a little scared. She sniffed and shook her head, taking in a slightly staggered breath. It sounded a little more like his old Rose, at least.

"I think, the sooner we get out of this place, the better. The TARDIS will be all up and working in about fourteen hours: think you can hang on that long?"

"Depends. Think you can?"

The Doctor considered this, noticing just how tired Rose really looked. He frowned. "I'll be all right. Go on, go get dressed. I'll wait out here."

She smiled and stepped towards the door. One foot over the threshold, she turned, he eyes on the Doctor for a moment.

"Sure you'll be all right?" she asked eventually.

He gave her a smile for the sake of it. "Course. I have to be."

She nodded and disappeared behind the door.

His smile faded and under his breath, the Doctor added, "For both our sakes."

xx

The room was tiny, too – not that Rose expected much else. It was darker than the main room, but she could just about see enough to make out a shape on the bed she assumed to be the dress. Plonking her rucksack down on the floor, she reached for the material and held it up to herself. Even in the light, she could see it was pink. And very much like the sort of strange robes Thixx had been wearing, only with black patterns swirled onto it. She couldn't decide if it was charmingly beautiful or sickeningly hideous.

She wiggled out of her clothes and slipped the dress over her head. Instantly, she felt it change, felt it tighten in some places and loosen in others, like it was adjusting to her build. Rose mentally thanked herself for remembering to pack some make-up, and leaned over to the bed to reach for the right pocket.

It was then that she heard a strange sound, a whisper that sounded like a breeze in the trees. Except that it was forming words in a purring, eerie sort of voice.

"Such a pretty lady..."

She jumped and cast her eyes to the wall. She couldn't hear or see anything, but the hairs at the back of her neck had started to tingle. She straightened uncertainly, holding a mascara stick in her hand.

"Hello?"

There was no answer and Rose was about to shrug and let it go – until she saw it. Two little orbs, red and blazing on the far side of the room. They narrowed into slits, and the next thing she knew, something with claws was lunging at her and ploughing her to the floor.

She didn't even get the time to scream.

xx

The Doctor edged further around the room, examining the writing desk, the carpets, the lights in the walls, the ladder. Nothing seemed to be out of order which, somehow, made things worse. He found himself looking at one of the wooden doors, staring at it intently, as though he were drawn to it. Casting a look to the door of Rose's room, he stepped up to it and hovered a hand over it. It was just a sheet, no handle, no hinges. Was it really even a door at all? Something inside him told him he needed to look behind this door, and it wasn't like he was leaving Rose for any length of time. He wasn't even going anywhere.

He pushed it open.

All that stood there was a corridor that led into darkness, no lights on the walls to aid him. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder, then shrugged. She'd be all right.

He stepped into the corridor and followed it slowly. He had to duck down so as not to scrape his head on the ceiling, and he ran the line of the wall with his hand. It smelled of damp earth, but other than that, there was no sign that it even led to anywhere. As he got further away from the light in the room, his night vision began to bring up the faint line of the corridor ahead of him. It all looked grey, again, but he pushed on, even through the cold draught. Why would there be a corridor that didn't lead anywhere?

Then suddenly, before he knew it, he'd hit the end. That was it, just a wall of earth ahead of him and no way through. He sighed. So much for that.

The Doctor turned, making his way back along the corridor. He had not gone further than a metre or so when he hit another wall of earth. He put his hand against it and pushed, but it wouldn't budge. Turning back, he could see the other wall not far off. There was earth, everywhere, and no way out.

He instantly made a grab for the sonic screwdriver and lifted it to the wall. Quite apart from the fact that now he couldn't even tell which was the way he had come, nothing sonic would never work on the molecules of loose dirt anyway. But he had to try.

Then he heard a breeze, a sort of strange malevolent whisper from behind him.

"Such an angry man..."

He turned slowly, but didn't even get the chance to see what flung out and attacked him. He felt sharp pain shoot through his cheek and chest as something clawed at him; then he felt nothing as he sank to the ground, unconscious.