Yes, this is at the end of the 'hypothetical' 6b series, where the second Doctor is working for the Celestial Intervention Agency, and is traveling with Jamie and Zoe.
Creative license taken with Jamie's accent, with a nod to Robbie Burns, or equivalent. Dinnae be huntin me now, ye ken?
The Doctor and companions property of the BBC. The type of Death involved, I believe, belongs to Terry Pratchett.
"Oh dear oh dear oh dear," said the Doctor, as he endeavored to push himself off of the floor.. "So the C.I.A. thinks I'm not useful anymore, eh? Bring in the sentence unannounced?" He groped about his pockets, then the floor about him. "Just like them to take the thing I need to calm my nerves, too..."
His head thudded once, twice, off of the steel floor of the TARDIS, then all was still.
"Doctor!"
Jamie grabbed Zoe by the shoulders, drew her to his chest.
"Dinnae worry about the wee man, Zoe," he said into her ear, " He's beaten better than this a lot of times before. I think we should worry more about ourselv's. I remember that much." He looked suddenly confused. "At least, I think I rem-" A shaft of greyish-red light overtook them. "Blast yeh, ye mind-rob'rs-"
The Doctor found himself standing in the middle of a black desert. Strange, he'd never been here, yet he now knew he'd been here once before. He felt a presence behind him. He turned, to behold the figure.
"So," he said. "My second regeneration."
YES.
"I suppose you're disappointed, since my race hasn't died the True death since... oh, dear. Since a rather long time, I believe."
RATHER LONG? NO, NOT REALLY. LONGER THAN MANY, BUT AS EVEN RASSILON KNOWS, IT WORKS OUT THE SAME IN THE END.
"Wait, knows? You mean-"
I MEAN NOTHING, AND AM EVERYTHING AFTERWARDS. WE'VE MET ENOUGH.
The black-robed skeleton raised his glowing blue sword to his brow in a salute, and lowered it.
I UNDERSTAND YOUR PEOPLE MEANT THIS DEATH AS A PUNISHMENT. The figure lowered its head and actually gave a rattling chuckle. A LOOK INTO THE TRUE INFINITE, A PUNISHMENT? HOW STRANGE THEY OVERLOOK THE HARD LESSONS OF THEIR OWN.
Death gave a wave of the sword.
IN ANY CASE, I EXPECT YOU'LL SOON BE GONE; YOU'RE ALREADY BEGINNING TO FADE. GOOD LUCK TO YOU.
"Wait!" said the Doctor. "Answer me this one question. I thought the sword was only for royalty. Why for me?"
Death actually let out a creaking sigh.
THE SWORD HAS BEEN REQUIRED FOR ME FOR EVERY DEATH OF YOUR KIND.
Death swung the sword, and everything changed...
and there was a blinding, painful light.