The Doctor bounced along on the bouncy ball. It was three feet round, made of superelastic, and had a totally adorable painted pony head sticking out the front.

The Doctor was seated on it, holding onto the big rubber ring and shoving off with his feet, bouncing a circle around her, and laughing like a maniac.

"You are such an infant!" River said with disgust.

"Come on, River, try it, it's fun!" he bounced in place, his fringe bobbing, the big red rubber ball under him making "gloomping" noises.

She crossed her arms. "Not in this lifetime, Sweetie. Give me a pogo stick any day."

He jumped up, accidentally kicking the ball across the children's funland playpark.

He rushed over to a kiosk, and made wild handwavy motions at the cephalopod attendant. The squidlike person had a bunch of balloons in one tentacle, was passing out firecracker candies with another, and was swiping credit sticks with yet another.

The ring of eyes at the top of his stalk pointed in every which direction, rolling and watching his business on all sides. It was like watching a carnival ride made flesh.

The Doctor didn't so much as blink. That was one thing River loved about him, he treated the weird alien no differently than if it had been a gap-toothed vendor at a Leadworth fair.

She watched as a tiny little cephalopod reached up and tugged on the bottom of his jacket with one slender tentacle. He bent over and talked to the delicate creature, no taller than his knee, it pointed several pink tentacles up at the vendor.

The Doctor looked up, reached up a long arm and snagged one of the balloons, he handed it to the child. The tiny alien bounced away happily on multiple coiled tentacles, its balloon bobbing along merrily in the breeze.

The Doctor smiled winsomely as he watched it go, then turned back to haggling with the vendor.

Just another completely inhuman alien who he'd helped. River's heart gave a thick little bounce.

He abruptly whirled around and thrust two poles at her. She reflexively jerked back a pace, her hand going to her gun.

He was grinning the most frightening grin.

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head.

He waggled the pogo sticks at her. "You're not one to turn down a challenge."

"That's not a challenge, Sweetie. That's suicide."

He grinned at her manically. "All the better." His eyebrows lifted.

She stared off down the fairway. There was a wide concrete concourse, lined with stalls and booths, holidaymakers of every physical description milled around under a wide pink bubble gum colored sky.

He bobbed the pogo sticks at her, one up, one down, his eyes blazing with joy.

"Race you to the end of the concourse," he challenged. He leaned forward. He looked so happy, his eyes shining, the wind blowing his fringe in his face. Grinning like a child in a candy store. Daring her. God she loved him like this.

She reached out and swept up the pogo stick. "Sweetie. You're on!"

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