"Well, it certainly is a beautiful night," commented Romana in that casual tone of voice one uses to initiate conversation rather than express an important thought. But her comment wasn't really superfluous, for it was indeed a lovely evening. The stars were like little diamond pinpricks in a purple velvety sky, and a mild, balmy breeze blew the scents of exotic flowers to where the two Time Lords were seated in beach chairs outside the TARDIS.

"Uh-huh," the Doctor agreed absentmindedly. She noticed that he seemed distracted. He was playing nervously with a yo-yo, and instead of his usual graceful maneuvers, the string was getting all tangled.

"Allow me," said Romana. She took the toy from his big, rough hand and easily untied the knot with her graceful, pale fingers.

"Thanks," he said, as she handed the restored yo-yo back to him. Within minutes it was a mess again.

"Doctor," ventured Romana, settling back in her chair and gazing at him with her soft green eyes. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he murmured as he fiddled once more with the string. His brow was creased and his lips hung slightly apart as when he was concentrating. The mop of mousy brown curls hung over his forehead as he bent over the tangle in his lap. She noticed that he did not look at her. That, however, was nothing new. If he was engrossed in something, even something as trivial as a child's toy, then one couldn't expect to have his undivided attention. He was very distant and private in that manner. For all his silly flippancy, he was actually a rather somber and private individual. This she both loved and sometimes regretted.

And she regretted it now, on this perfect night. Here they were under a sky full of stars sitting side by side yet completely separate.

"Why, Doctor," asked Romana, "do you prefer loneliness?"

He stopped abruptly and looked up at her with his wide blue eyes.

"I don't," he answered after several moments' contemplation. "Why do you think I still travel with you? Why do you think I travel with anyone?"

"That's not what I mean. One can be lonely in a crowd, you know. I can sense that you're not fully open with me. You're always holding something back. There's a sadness to you sometimes, Doctor. I don't want you to be sad."

"I'm not sad," he replied unconvincingly. "I'm quite happy." He looked up at his companion and flashed one of his toothy grins.

"Doctor," said Romana sternly. "You can't fool me. Perhaps you're too used to traveling with humans, but we're both telepathic. I can sense when you're not happy. You try to mask it, but not very well, I'm afraid." She scooted her chair closer. "Won't you confide in me?"

"It's nothing. Nothing's wrong," the Doctor murmured, staring off into the dark night. "I enjoy your company. You're a fine Time Lady. Anyone would be glad to travel with you."

"Doctor, you're skirting the issue. Besides, if you think so highly about me, then why this distance between us? Are you afraid that I'm going to leave you?"

The Doctor stiffened, and Romana knew that she had hit a nerve.

"I'm not afraid. I know that it will happen one day. You're free to go whenever you like. But I do hope that you aren't thinking of leaving just yet."

"No, of course not."

They sat in silence for several moments before the Doctor spoke again. "You see, if you did leave, I would be sad. I would be truly lonely. And I would like … sometimes, well, often I suppose, to … well, it's just easier this way. You know? It's cleaner and more practical. No messy goodbyes. Just you and me enjoying ourselves and having a jolly good time and then going our separate ways. That's the way to do it. Everyone always moves on in the end. It's best to remember that."

Romana listened with concern. "I've always felt more regret for what I haven't done than for what I have done, and after all, one must take some risks," she replied softly. "Do you suppose you could … tweak your philosophy, just for me?"

She leaned against his shoulder and clasped her hand in his. "You see, Doctor, I've afraid that I've fallen in love with you."

He turned and looked at her. She reached up to brush an errant curl out of his eyes. He seemed to lose himself in her kind eyes for several moments. Then he smiled: not a silly grin or a cheeky, frivolous smile, but a genuine, happy, emotional smile. He lifted her dainty chin with his big hand and gave her a gentle, tentative kiss on the lips. It was absolute bliss.

"Well, all right, Romana," he replied in mock acquiescence. "But just for you."