Turning to face the beast, Rose snatched up a nearby candlestick and threw it overarm as hard as she could.
"Fetch!" she yelled. The werewolf stopped in its tracks, clearly bewildered.
"Er, Rose...?" said the Doctor, after a heavily pregnant pause. She paid him no attention.
"Sit!" said Rose, although the certainty had drained from her voice. Behind her, the Doctor put his hand over his eyes, thoroughly mortified.
"Play dead?" she tried. The corridor was by now filled with great big pink, fluffy clouds of contact embarrassment. The Doctor caught the werewolf's eye, and for a second they shared a moment of fellow feeling.
Sir Robert cleared his throat.
"Shall we be going?" he said, staring at a handy wall.
"Suppose so," said Rose, staring at her toes.
Very quietly, they sidled away.