It was a bad day. Jack had died three times. Getting harder to keep hoping. Martha was gone, on a quest that surely didn't involve lethal weapons. He trusted the Doctor, yet it seemed that only violence could defeat the Master.

Smiling, Tish brought his dinner. "Took this from Lucy's breakfast tray–"

"Told you not to take chances for me. Not worth it."

"Anything I can do to spit in his eye is worth it." She displayed her prize. "You like?"

Jack's grin was genuine. "Yeah. Bananas are good." There were many kinds of weapons, he mused…