"Oh yes, let's go out!" the Doctor piped immediately at Rose's suggestion, his eyes as big and excited as he grin -- and with the TARDIS door shut behind him he strode out of the room, unable to stand still a moment longer now that he'd had a taste of mystery.

He was already in the hall with his hand on the door and an impatient glee in his voice. "Mickey, could ya show us where you saw those bins? They were by a cafe you said, right? I love cafes. They're a perfect place to hide in plain sight." He gave them both a wink, yanked open the door and disappeared out onto the landing.

"Come on, you two!" he called, and he spun around and leaned over the banister to stare down in to the apartment building courtyard, pushed himself upright again and stretched as he walked. His legs worked, his arms worked, he could still see and hear and taste and smell. He was in [i]London[/i], hot on the trail of some new and interesting and fantastic thing. It was glorious to be alive.

His legs suddenly gave out halfway down the stairs, and he grabbed the railing and watched his feet fly out from under him. He gave a terrific cough, wheezed, and leaned over the rail; A warm tingle of energy bubbled up his throat just before a wisp of gold trickled out between his lips. He'd have to keep the exertion down, he thought to himself. At least it wasn't as bad as [i]last[/i] time.

He lifted his head and blinked out at the courtyard. He could've sworn he'd seen something small and dark scurry across the ground and out through the gate. It had been running on two legs.