"I did ask politely for you not to bleed on me, but you didn't seem to want to listen," the Doctor replied, his voice just as light.

This felt good, despite the incredible pain in his leg and his stiff, blood-soaked clothes. It felt good to be talking and teasing, not fighting and running. Well, the running would come, but not the same sort of running. Good, positive, life-or-death running.

He wanted to blame Jack for the discomfort between them. If Jack hadn't crossed that line, asked him to give him more---but why wouldn't he ask? Hadn't they mutually crossed many of the Doctor's previously-asserted lines?

A caw from a large animal overhead made the Doctor pick up the pace. "Quick, into the trees."