Rose is warm. Warm and comfy and still floating on the last wonderful wisps of sleep. She burrows down further into the nest of duvet knowing that she can stay here as long as she wants. That’s the rule. Life threatening adventure? Sleep in the next day. Spend the day in jimjams and fluffy socks. Seems only fair. Rose rolls over letting her body start to slip back into the arms of sleep, fully intending to stay in those arms for several more hours.

Sleep had just begun to take his hold on her again when she was suddenly and rudely ripped away from those strong arms as a loud thunder rolls through her room. A loud thunder followed by, what can only be described as, a bouncy voice.

“Rose?” The Doctor’s sing-songy voice floats into the room. “Rose, whatta up to?” This inquiry is followed by more of the thundering noise – also known as the Doctor knocking on her bedroom door. Rose groans and tunnels farther down into the mass of blankets and pillows – willing the energetic Time Lord at her door to go away.

“I hope I haven’t woken you up – but I counted – even set a timer – exactly 7 and a half hours from the time you shut your door because according to everything I know about humans you should, at your age, require seven hours of sleep to remain healthy and happy. Seven hours will give you a good three or four cycles of REM sleep which is important for you to have. I added that half hour on to that original seven hours to give you time to do all those girly things I’m sure you do before you go to bed – you know nail painting, hair braiding, face masks…what is the point of the face mask? I mean really? Does it REALLY do anything for you or is it just an excuse to get back to the roots of the prehistoric humans who used to put mud on their faces to scare the cave demons away so they could have a good night’s sleep without the threat of a demon eating them in their sleep. See – it always goes back to sleep with you silly apes…..why is that? I mean you miss so much that is going on when you sleep. Locked in your own tiny subconscious mind – but then I guess that is what humans are unless they break free – locked in their own ideas and thoughts and....”

Rose turns over onto her back and makes a face at the ceiling. The Doctor must have run out of TARDIS repairs and obviously needs someone else to entertain him. She lays there a while hoping that he will get the point and go hit the TARDIS some more. Suddenly Rose’s room was filled with bright blinding light and the sound of the TARDIS’s amused humming joined the rambling of the Doctor outside. Rose squeezed her eyes shut and sighed and rolled out of bed. She half walked, half stumbled over to the door and pulled it open. There, leaning against the wall next to her door was the Doctor, bouncing on the balls of his feet, with his fists jammed into his trouser pockets, staring at the ceiling as if it had all the answers in the universe and still rambling away.

“Of course the Citrus unshiu also known as the satsuma also has asian roots. However the pear doesn’t necessarily come from Asia naturally despite it being grown in China for over 3000 years. That clearly makes it one of the less superior fruits, if not at the very bottom of the list. I mean what can you do with a Pear? Nothing! Well……there is juice and they did have those pear flavored jelly bellies which are NOTHING  like a jelly BABY. I was highly disappointed in that! I wrote a letter and everything! Never got a reply but then I guess that’s because……” 

The Doctor stops mid ramble at the sight of what, from his point of view, looks very much like one of the prehistoric cave demons. Rose glares at him from her open door – dark mascara smudges under her eyes, blonde hair knotted and sticking out in all directions, eyes a little red and blurry. She obviously sleeps with the TARDIS key around her neck because there is an imprint of said key on her cheek along with what looks like some dried drool.

The Doctor stands – mouth gaping like a fish out of water and eyes wide as Rose glares at him. They say nothing. He stares. She glares. Finally she raises one eyebrow at him and he quickly finds the tiny scruff on his trainers extremely fascinating, I mean who would have guessed how such a small mark could really change the whole look of a shoe. He runs his hands through his own messy hair and chances a glance up at the cave demon standing in Rose’s room –

Yup. Still there. Still glaring.

He looks down again.

“I guess 7 hours wasn’t long enough?”