Run with the Doctor, the universe depends on it!
From Create Your Own Story
You grasp the Doctor's firm hand and he grins, happy to see you've joined him. He tugs you out into the hallways, leather boots squeaking on the linoleum floors. Together, you run down the stairs, and you can't help but notice that the Doctor is giggling as a leaps down the stairs, two at a time.
You: Isn't this an urgent situation? Shouldn't we be taking this a bit more seriously?
This provokes the Doctor to slide to a halt before turning around and looking at you questioningly.
The Doctor: Oh, sure, this is quite the urgent situation, but that doesn't necessarily mean we can't have a bit of fun, now, does it?
He seems to be sincerely asking you to answer this question, but right before you can tell him that yes, it does mean that we can't have even a bit of fun, he pulls you outside onto the green grass of your school's front campus.
While you straighten out your now-disheveled oversized sweater and wipe chalk dust from your skinny jeans, the Doctor appears to be sniffing the air questioningly. He turns to you and darts over to you, standing a mere inches away from you. You're only a few inches shorter than him, and you can't help but notice that you could easily stand on tip-toe and pull this Doctor into a long, sweet kiss. Now that you're thinking of it, you could just as easily kneel down and begin to fellate this brilliant madman.
You shake your head to clear your mind of these inappropriate thoughts, and the Doctor looks around cautiously. You wonder why he would be doing that, especially since it's not like anyone is coming after you; everyone else is frozen. Without warning, the Doctor tugs your arm once again, pulling you behind him in the direction of the orchard that stands right next to your school's football field. You smile and run alongside him, glad that you're in shape, because you can't help but think how embarrassing it would be for your hand to be sweating into the Doctor's firm grasp.
After finally making it to the orchard, the Doctor stands outside a long, dense row of apple trees, still holding your hand. You stand like that for a while, both smiling and catching your breath. The Doctor suddenly looks down at your intertwined hands and blushes, seemingly embarrassed at the prolonged contact, and drops your hand, bringing his own to his head in a halfhearted scratch. He awkwardly drops his hands and nods towards yours, which you've clasped in front of you.
The Doctor: I rather like your nail-polish.
For a moment, you are confused until you look down and remember that your nails are painted a brilliant blue. You smile and thank the Doctor for his adorable compliment.
You decide to...
