Before they retired, the Doctor managed to rig the towels so they made temporary curtains, and it was perhaps because of this that they both slept so well. When Rose finally awoke, feeling more refreshed than she had for about a week, she noticed the time on the new clock read 13:17.

"Doctor," Rose said, shaking him. "Wake up. It's the afternoon."

"What?"

"We've slept all morning."

The Doctor rolled over, looked blearily at the clock for a while, and then replied. "No we haven't."

"We haven't? I thought midday here was at ten?"

"It is. But look at the date." The Doctor pointed.

"So?"

"It's the day after tomorrow. We've slept for about twenty hours." He rubbed his eyes.

"The day after—My interview!" Rose shot out of bed and ran to the shower. "It's in forty minutes!"

"Here!" The Doctor threw her one of the pink towels. "I'll get you some breakfast."

"Thanks!" Rose turned the shower on, hopping from one foot to the other as it took a painfully long time to warm up. After a quick soaping, she dried off and emerged, wrapped in the towel, to find the Doctor had laid out some of her more formal new clothes ready to put on, and was cutting up the last of the sweet loaf and buttering it.

"What do you want on this?" he asked, his back to her as she changed.

"I'll just have it plain," Rose answered, and wolfed it down as quick as she dared, swallowing half the coffee in one gulp. "Thanks Doctor, you're brilliant. Who says you can't do domestic, eh?"

"Oy, you're running too late to start teasing," the Doctor said with a grin. "Ready?"

"Ready. How'd I look?"

He looked her up and down. "Have you combed your hair? 'Cause it's a bit ..."

Rose froze. "Comb. Don't have a comb. No! I can't go to an interview like this!" She was starting to hyperventilate, but the Doctor fumbled in his pockets and drew out a comb. She stared.

"You could have mentioned earlier you had this!" She took it and began attacking her locks, wincing as the teeth stuck. "Oh, this is going to take forever ..."

"Here, let me." As the only one of them who wasn't panicking, the Doctor took the comb and did a much quicker job of sorting her hair than she would have. "There, you look lovely."

"Thanks." Rose looked at the clock. "I'm going to have to run."

"Allow me." Before Rose could stop him, the Doctor had lifted her in his arms, and was hurrying out of the flat. He positively sprinted to the supermarket, arriving with four minutes to spare.

"There," he gasped as he let her down. "Better not to arrive out of breath, not the best first impression."

Not having time to thank him properly, Rose planted a quick kiss on his cheek before hurrying inside.


The Doctor watched Rose head in, and stifled a yawn. His legs suddenly felt like rubber. He managed to make it round the corner before he had to sit down. He'd just rest a moment, he told himself. Just a moment ...


After the interview, Rose ventured outside to find the Doctor had disappeared. Assuming had had headed back to the flat, and slightly disappointed that he hadn't waited for her, she began the journey back on her own, only to find him fast asleep on a bench.