She hears your voice, and deft shivers run up her spine. Your breath makes contact with her skin, and she gasps. Your hand snakes round her waist, and her eyes meet your own. You laugh, and she is full of fear. The sad old starship spins out of control. You ghost her, setting co-ordinates and keeping close contact.
'Amy, be a dear and fetch me some water,' you do not look up from the controls. Amy Pond pauses for a second before running out, with a hushed acknowledgement.
'Yes, Master,'
See you next time.
