Nothing easy

“What?!” Rose squeaked. “I can’t- Doctor, I’m not- I can’t stay like this!”

Seriously, what even was this day? Getting marooned god-only-knew-where, meeting Zorro, Superman, and now apparently becoming fictional of all things. And out of every genre she could have become part of, it was-

“Can I… is there some way to… not be…”

Rose flushed furiously, barely able to string a whole sentence out. She squirmed, bare feet on the TARDIS floor, still desperately trying to cover herself with her arms. This couldn’t seriously be all that she could wear!

A glance down at the almost sandy remnants of what she had tried to put on though reminded her of her situation. If she tried to cover herself with even a blanket, it was just going to dissolve and leave her exposed.

And the Doctor of all people was seeing her like this.

“There’s- The first time I was here my companions could will themselves free,” the Doctor said. “Maybe if you can concentrate on how much you don’t want to be like this, you can…”

“Do you think I want to be starkers?!” Rose said. “I’m trying, I’m still like this.”

“Right, right,” the Doctor hesitated. “You did say it was a laptop. Digital data, more advanced than what trapped them. Maybe it isn’t that simple, so…”

“So?” Rose said, ****. “Please tell me there’s something after that!”

“Nothing we can do here,” the Doctor said. “But if we were to go somewhere more central…”

“More central?” Rose said. “What does that mean?”

“The Land of Fiction is usually presided over by some Master,” he said. “Or Mistress, I think that was chronologically my last time here. Never been good at keeping events in order. They might have some control to help free you, or if not at the very least I think we could shift you to a different genre.”

“So I wouldn’t be permanently naked?” Rose said, cheeks still crimson.

“Exactly!” the Doctor said. His brow furrowed. “Though why you humans made that a genre in the first place is still baffling. There might be some other **** affecting the-”

“N-no, it’s a thing,” Rose said.

“It is?” the Doctor said.

“Just- just trust me,” Rose said, cheeks burning.

After a moment, the Doctor shrugged.

“So is that what we’re doing?” Rose said. “Take the TARDIS to the centre of the Land of Fiction and get me sorted out?”

“I…” the Doctor hesitated. His expression sobered. “It’s not that easy, Rose.”

“What?” she said. “Why can’t we just…”

“We’re outside the normal universe,” the Doctor said. “There’s no space or time in the conventional sense, just… words, the lifeblood of this place is ink and imagination rather than matter and energy. There’s no coordinate system I can use to navigate. The… the only way to reliably get around rather than shooting at random is to walk.”

“What?!” Rose squeaked again, panicked. “I have to walk again? Out there? I’m in my birthday suit Doctor!”

“It’s the only way,” he said. “It might not be so bad. There are other genres, you won’t need to go through the ENF subgenre again. Maybe a couple of other genres, but it won’t be… conspiring to expose you like before. Probably.”

“Probably?!” Rose echoed, increasingly worried.

“Well, it depends on…” the Doctor said, distracted. He moved closer to the console’s screen. “Ok, take a look. We’re here, the Mistress can be accessed from here, that takes us through….”