"It's too much, Doctor," Lorna was saying in space and time nearby, "all of it is. It's amazing, but it's so exhausting as well, and I just don't think I can do it anymore. Don't get me wrong," she said, "it was nice, while it was a holiday. But if things like the Daleks can be anywhere now… I think I'd rather stay home for a while."

"I understand," said the Doctor, smiling.

"But Christina still wants to travel with you."

The Doctor's smile became fixed.

"Chris? But I've lots to take care of. Living bombs, and a robot Vladimir Putin. It's not a safe life, for someone as young as her. Not if she doesn't have you."

"Maybe not. But I trust you to keep her safe."

"You trust me?" said the Doctor, astonished. "With your child?"

"Of course I do. You were willing to die for her on Edinburgh Four, and for me. That's more than I usually ask in a childminder."

The Doctor sighed. "It's just not something that would happen before I was"— she waved her hands up and down her body —"you know."

"But that's a good thing, isn't it? That now someone would trust you in that way?"

"Not at all. It means I dotted off this way and that 'cause nobody thought to give me responsibilities, and I never even noticed because all the time no one ever said."

"Well, that's the thing about being a woman," said Lorna. "Makes you understand what it means to be a man."

She closed the door behind her as she left the room, and the Doctor saw in the mirror how exhausted she'd started to look by now.

"This is a lot less empowering than I thought it would be," she muttered to her tired reflection.