The Doctor came around to find a blinding light on his eyelids and a massive pain in his head. He groaned and rolled over onto his side, and the thumping in his head increased. This must be how the Master felt he thought to himself before assessing his surroundings as best he could with his eyes tight shut. Apart from his head, he appeared to be largely unharmed. His back and neck were cold, and sore from lying on a hard surface. His throat was dry, and his eyes hurt slightly from the light that was squeezing in through his eyelids. He felt faintly nauseous, but nothing major.

Now, to work out what had happened. He tried to remember the previous day. He remembered the field, they were going to a ball, he wore a top hat and bow tie…there was dancing, him and River, for hours and hours. There was the drinks, and that ginger beer he had tried. And…the beer, the wonderful beer that was the best in the universe, surely in all the universes there could ever be…that came into it somehow. He was floating over a green field, as if he was flying…then he had been dropped on the ground. He vaguely remembered someone pulling his left leg, and then there was nothing…until he woke up here, that is.

That awful thumping! It simply wouldn't go away! He groaned again and rolled back onto his back, and edged one eye open slowly. He was assaulted by more of the blinding light, then the colours began to assert themselves into the familiar form of his beloved TARDIS. He was lying at the bottom of the stars, just inside the doors. He could see out of the corner of his eye the Ponds standing by the controls, talking quietly together. He sat up, with great effort, and they looked over at him, sniggered, and went back to talking.

He tried to speak. "Wha- what happened?"

River turned around slowly. "You got drunk, sweetie. How's the hangover?" She smirked at Amy and Rory, and they grinned in response.

"Oh, fantastic. Never better," he replied, secretly pleased that his head had room for sarcasm with this dreadful throbbing pain.

Rory, ever the doctor, went and knelt beside The Doctor, checking his eyes as he asked him questions. He returned to stand by his wife. "The verdict?" she asked quietly. "He's drunk," he replied equally quietly. "At least he's not singing dirty songs anymore." he joked, and they both smiled. The jumped as a loud groan came from behind them.

They looked around to see the Doctor holding his head, curled up on the ground, groaning and moaning. They turned to River, Amy raising an eyebrow. River merely said, "He'll be like that until at least Tuesday. Unless we can find a cure."

"What, a hangover cure?" Rory was sceptical.

"Yes, father, a hangover cure. He's a Time Lord, remember; there must be a way." She pulled out her little book of the Doctor's various exploits. "I understand something happened to him before, he was poisoned – the Tenth him, that's why you don't remember," she added in response to her parents' confused looks. "Ah, yes! Agatha Christie and the Vespiform. His drink was poisoned when he was with Agatha Christie, and he gave himself a detox to save himself. Maybe we could do that again…" She closed the book thoughtful and called over to the Doctor, "Sweetie, what would you do if I said something was inhibiting your enzymes?"

o0o0o

Half an hour later, the four of them were standing in a rather large kitchen in the TARDIS, one neither Amy nor Rory had seen before. On the bench on front of the Doctor, there was ginger beer (River had grudgingly agreed), some fried fish (for protein), a small bowl of popcorn (extra salty), and some custard with fish fingers (for good luck).

The Doctor paced up and down. "No, I've forgotten something. I know I have. It was to do with Donna…" his lips puckered slightly and he opened his eyes with a start. "A shock! That was it." He turned to the others. "Do you think one of you could provide a shock for me please?"

River grinned. "I'll do it, Sweetie."

He swallowed, then nodded. "Alright then. Let's get started!" He turned towards the food on the bench, failing to spot the Ponds whispering behind his back, then straighten up, nodding.

The Doctor took a deep breath, then tipped back his head and gulped down the entire bottle of ginger beer. He straightened up, gasping; then reached for the fish. That went down equally quickly followed by the popcorn, and custard and fish fingers. "Now for the shock," he muttered, turning to River, a smile forming on his face; and he was flabbergasted when Rory lurched forward and kissed him full on the mouth. He leaped away and staggered backwards, gasping for air. As he fell backwards onto the bench, he saw all the Ponds laughing at him, Rory going red; but he was distracted by smoke emanating from his mouth. He blinked and shook his head – no pain! No throbbing, no noises, and everything looked normal again.

"What do you know," River remarked, "a detox works for a hangover. So there, Mr Pond; there is a cure for a hangover."

Rory blushed slightly, bowing his head. He wouldn't look the Doctor in the eye. Amy, on the other hand, was convulsing with laughter. "I'm sorry," she managed to say, "But your face! Priceless!"

The Doctor looked reproachfully at River. "That was a mean trick."

"Well, it wouldn't have been as shocking coming from me, now would it?"

The Doctor pondered this for a bit, then stuck out his hand. "Even," he said. "Even," she agreed, shaking his hand.

River turned and strode out, heading for the control room. "Where to now?" she asked the assembled group, who had followed her. "I know of a wonderful place, called Appalappachia; how does that sound?"

Rory and Amy shook their heads vigorously. "Not there," they said together. "Unless," Amy said, with a sideways glance at the Doctor, "we actually use a history book first…"

For the next bit of the story, check out the first chapter of my story 'Not What You Think'.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!