Author's Note: I apparently have a fondness for DW/HP x-overs. Anyway, this is a companion piece to Doctor Comma The, of sorts. I have a few of these drabbles, and just decided to call them related. Also, I'm pretty sure you spell parlay 'parlay' and not 'parley'. But if I'm wrong, feel free to correct me. I thrive on reviews!

Disclaimer: Not mine. I'd be far richer if either one was mine.

Parlay

The Doctor, Theta Sigma, The Oncoming Storm, Destroyer Of Worlds, Last of the mighty Time Lords, was now found cowering in a broom closet. Somehow, his gob had run away with him again, pissing off two thoroughly terrifying beings.

Daleks? Easy. Cybermen? Piece of cake.

Rose Tyler and Hermione Granger? Run for your life!!

He still wasn't quite sure how he had managed it, but in one sentence, he'd managed to insult both formidable women. When he noticed their constipated and red faces, he'd (very politely, he might add!) asked them if they were ok, or if perhaps they needed some medicine. Ron Weasley, unusually perceptive at this point, had advised him to run for it, and opinion Harry Potter vehemently agreed with. So the Doctor, taking a look at both women's stony faces, decided on the only honorable course of action.

Flee, and hope to live to fight another day.

So here he was, hiding in a bloody broom closet, hiding from the one force in the entire universe that could bring him down..

A sudden, blinding light entering the previously black closet had him blinking owlishly, staring up at the furious faces of the very people he wanted to avoid.

Raising his hands slowly over his head, so as to not provoke them, he uttered his only defense, his only hope.

"Parlay?"