"Are you sure this isn't part of the series?"

The Doctor looked at the two girls. They'd been caught up in the latest bit of chaos he'd stuck his nose in (some people looked for trouble; trouble was his personal stalker) and he'd bundled them into the TARDIS seconds before the building went boom. Common courtesy, to get people out of the way before the bomb you set up went off.

"... ah ... pretty sure ..."

Then again, their reactions weren't normal - the usual course of events was either stunned amazement, desperate realignment of their personal concepts of the universe and their place within it, heady awe, increasing excitement - these two blondes were exhibiting mild disinterest at best, the shorter one concentrating more on the image in her compact mirror.

They weren't carrying fob watches, were they?

"Anyway ..." The Doctor started the warm-up sequence for dematerialisation "... I'll just get you home ..." A thought struck him. "Oh, I didn't get your names."

That produced a reaction. "You don't know us?"

The Doctor peered at their features, trying to match them against historical personages of significance and importance (most he'd met purely for dinner party conversation) and drew a solid blank. "Sorry. No. Should I?"

"Well that sucks."

He was just giving them a lift, that's all. He was not desperate for company.

"Oh ... anyway ... I'm the Doctor. And you are...?"

"Nicole."

"Paris."