Rose ran from the store, freed from the loveless clutches of those ugly automatons. And there he was again, his arms folded and leaning on that strange blue box. He stared straight into Rose's eyes, with a perfect, fearless, impersonal look. He made her feel shy. "Do yer wanna come with me, as 'eck as like?" he asked. "With me and whippets?" Confusion filled Rose's mind. Yes, she was tied to Mickey, confined as he was to that infernal wheelchair, yet she had no wish to remain a demi-vierge, trapped like a cage-bird. Rose wanted to cry out, yes, yes, yes! But she bit her lip and stayed silent. Then the Doctor Who the ninth asked again: "Do yer wanna come with me, bitch?" And Rose heard herself reply: "Whatever."
* * *
The flickering light from the console played over their naked bodies as they lay sprawled across the Tardis floor. The Doctor Who was coiling Rose's body hair around the daisies that they had picked in the garden. "Eee but th'art deep to fook," he told her. "Yer little koont, as 'eck as like." She giggled a shy girl's giggle and watched him slowly subside. And then she asked him: "Can we 'ave some chips?"