A/N: Slightly strange interlude here. It didn't manage to convince me 100 per cent, but I feel guilty about not updating for so long. So this'll have to do. If you hate it, please tell me. If you like it, please tell me. Basically, I'm asking you to review. Please...

Disclaimer: Property of the BBC. As always.

Rose idly wandered into her room, only to stop dead and narrow her eyes. She stared through the wide open bathroom door. The Doctor was standing just inside, his glasses on and studiously staring at the numerous bottles of stuff adorning the side of her bath.

"What are you doing in my bathroom?" she demanded, stalking over to the doorway.

The Doctor didn't pause in his scrutiny of one of Rose's shampoo bottles. "Your bathroom, is it?" he asked, mildly, "Actually, Rose, I think you'll find it's already on the TARDIS and seeing as how the TARDIS really belongs to me, this is actually my bathroom."

"This," said Rose, firmly, "is my room and you are currently standing in my bathroom. Why?"

"Why?" The Doctor frowned, picking up another bottle and staring at it, intently, "The TARDIS said the the light above your mirror was faulty, so I came to fix it. I'd hate for you not to be able to see yourself in the mornings – you'd really be missing something. Rose, why do you have a special shampoo for 'dull and greasy' hair?"

Rose was so taken aback she forgot to be annoyed.

"Um, so I don't get dull and greasy hair?" she replied, managing to restrain herself from adding "obviously".

"No, but this bottle is for dull and greasy hair. As in, it gives you dull and greasy hair. I wouldn't have thought that'd be something you want."

Rose laughed. "No, Doctor, that's just what they say. You know; if you have dry hair, use this! That's not what it's actually going to give you..."

The Doctor looked up at her, raising his eyebrows. She recognised the expression of slight superiority. "Er, Rose, I think you may have misunderstood. That may be the case on Earth, but it's a little different on other planets. Where'd you get this one?"

"On that..." Rose thought for a minute, and the Doctor surreptitiously watched her, fond of her 'thinking face', "In that big shopping centre, with all the little turquoise rabbits. When you went off for the Recca-whatsit."

"Reccatochtane," he corrected, absent-mindedly. "Rose..." the Doctor wrinkled his nose a little, "Did you notice anything about the hair of the people on that planet?"

"Yeah, actually," she cast her mind back to the people she'd seen, "it was disgusting. And weird, considering how many bottles of specialist shampoo there were on sale. I thought the stuff must be good, though, seeing as how it would have had so many cases of bad hair to deal with. You know, it would have been thoroughly tested and everything."

The Doctor sighed and shook his head, while still looking mildly amused - it was a highly accomplished expression. "Oh, Rose, on that planet, dull and greasy hair is considered attractive. Having shiny hair is unwise and actually rather rude, so the shampoo they sell is designed to dull and dirty the hair. Which, coincidentally, has many additional benefits. For instance, it reduces the outbreaks of head lice in primary schools, which in turn caused an increase in the number of young, particularly female, teachers willing to work at them which then precipitated the number of fathers attending parents evening. It's quite a interesting case, that one." He mused on it for a couple of seconds, while Rose patiently waited for him to get to the point, "Anyway, so when it says 'for' it actually means 'for'. They have a very strict policy on advertising. Quite harsh penalties, too." He grimaced, and began to study another bottle.

Rose pouted. "Oh. You could have said something before we went, you know."

"I didn't know you were going to start picking up alien shampoo, did I?" said the Doctor, quite defensively, "You normally stick to Tesco. You haven't been using this, have you?"

Rose patted her head, self-consciously, "Only once..."

"Well..." grinned the Doctor, glancing up at her with mischievous eyes, "You'd never tell. Probably best not to use this stuff, though. Although, if you did use it, we could probably cut down on the number of pretty boys who've been sniffing around you."

"Shut up," laughed Rose, taking the bottle from him, "I'm so not using this again."

She turned and shoved it in a cupboard under the sink.

"Alright," she ordered, "Out. Get out of the bathroom."

"But there are more things to look at!" whined the Doctor, "The shampoo was only the start of the investigations - I was going to look at the shower gel next. There are all kinds of funny chemicals in shower gel, you know, and I was going to make sure you didn't have any containing the ingredient that makes you especially attractive to Geischenk wasps..."

Rose pulled forcefully on his arm, "Out! A girl's bathroom is very private, Doctor. You could find out all kinds of awful things from snooping around in there."

"Do you have secrets, Rose?" asked the Doctor, his curiosity piqued and he allowed himself to be led out of the bathroom.

"Doctor," sighed Rose, "every female has secrets. Especially when it comes to bathroom issues."

The Doctor digested this. "Ok," he said, seriously, "So long as you're not hiding anything major, like dying your hair. That would be a shocking thing to keep from me..."

Rose rolled her eyes, "That's hilarious, that is. Besides, anyone could tell by the roots."

"I like the roots!" protested the Doctor, "I think it makes you... you... individual." He emphasised the last word, looking very pleased with himself.

"You're going to get a slap if you're not careful," warned Rose, looking a little uncomfortable, and the Doctor's face fell, "Just leave it, yeah?"

"But I mean it!" he exclaimed, eager to make her understand, "I like the roots. They're nice. Doesn't make you look tacky or anything." He rushed on as her eyebrows shot up in an alarming way, "And doesn't make you look like a scary, barbie-clone. It's as if your hair has layers and kind of makes you you. It's nice. Really."

"Well." Rose digested all of this, "Thanks. Can't be bothered to re-dye it, anyway. Too many other things to do..."

"Yes," agreed the Doctor, anxious to move away from the awkwardness, "I know exactly what you mean. Actually, I think there's a bit of a problem on Trihyde that needs resolving..."

"Right," she grinned, in a way that meant he couldn't help grinning too, "we better see to that then. That sounds a lot more interesting than standing around, discussing toiletries."

The Doctor laughed, breezily, and Rose began to follow him out of the room.

"Hang on," she said, the tone of her voice stopping the Doctor in his tracks. "What's that in your jacket pocket?"

The Doctor tensed, "In my pocket?" he asked, weakly, "There are many things in my jacket pockets, Rose. Sonic Screwdriver, for instance. Never know when you'll need that. Psychic paper, which is almost equally as useful. Then we have a lollipop, animal plasters, loose string, earphones, slightly melted chocolate biscuit, an incontiggle wire..."

"No," said Rose, nonchalantly, "I meant, more, the big bottle-shaped item."

"Big bottle-shaped item?" the Doctor exclaimed, dramatically, "Rose, there is no big bottle-shaped item!"

Calmly, Rose marched up to him and reached inside the jacket pocket. Triumphantly, she withdrew a bottle of shampoo.

"Oh!" said the Doctor, feigning surprise, "Oh! Well, I have no idea how that got there..."

"No," said Rose, "I'm sure you haven't..."

"The bottle must be made of a superior alien plastic," he began babbling, "which can somehow travel unaided. Completely brilliant science, of course. It must have been attracted to something inside my pock-" He stopped as he realised Rose was completely uninterested.

Slightly nervously, he watched her turn the bottle over in her hands.

"You do realise," she mused, "that this is the most expensive and most effective bottle of shampoo I own?"

"Really? Well, it's good that you found it, then. I can't imagine how it ended up in my pocket. Though my theory about the plastic sounds pretty convincing, don't you think? Just imagine, though, if you hadn't been clever enough to spot it, I could have gone wandering off with it and we'd never have realised..."

"Doctor," sighed Rose, setting the bottle down on the dresser table behind her. "If you want to borrow any of my hair products just ask, ok? It's not more manly to shiftily nick it, so you can pretend you never wanted it. More importantly, just buy you own..."

"Right..." The Doctor cleared his throat, "Right. I'll bear that in mind. Buying and asking my own from now on. I mean, asking and buying my own. Yep, I'll do that."

"Good," beamed Rose, but knowing the resolve would never last, "Come on, then. Problems to solve, worlds to save, Doctor shampoo to buy..." She turned and began leading the way out of the room.

"Precisely," said the Doctor, brightly, surreptitiously slipping the shampoo bottle into his secret inner jacket pocket. "Off we go."

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