The sounds of crashing, screaming and running echoed through the corridor.

Lasers shot over their heads continually as the Doctor, Amy, Rory and Aliya rounded corners and dashed through the seemingly endless maze of corridors. Each corner bought only seconds of relief before their pursuers also rounded it, bringing the urgency of the situation crashing down on them harder each time. One word was repeated through their minds as it was uttered over and over again by the humanoid chasing them.

Delete…delete…delete…delete…

The one word repeated in a monotone was surprisingly terrifying.

"Remind me again why they're still chasing us?" Amy panted. "I thought we fixed the de-activator machine or something like that."

"We did. They should have been de-activated by now, but somebody accidentally put it on delay." The Doctor turned to glare at Aliya pointedly. She stared at him with utter disbelief as they slid around another corner.

"Now?" She demanded. "You want to do this now?"

"You're a temporal mechanic! How did you manage to muck up a simple reroute of the command signal from their main generator?"

"Well, excuse me for being very out of practice because someone put me in a void inside a giant mountain for three hundred years!" She snapped. "And because a certain bowtie wearing idiot won't let me touch his TARDIS and get back into practice!"

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you volunteered for the job!"

"Well, excuse me, your lordship for making a mistake!"

"Well, perhaps her ladyship should just admit that I'm still the cleverest, and that she should have just let me do it!"

"Maybe, your lordship, you should pull your arrogant and overgrown head out of your arse and stop needing to be the best at everything!"

"Guys!" Rory interrupted the bickering, and Aliya and the Doctor fell silent while still glaring at each other. "This isn't helping. We can argue when we're not running for our lives! How much time have we got? How long was the delay?"

"The TARDIS isn't very far away, but they're gaining, and they won't shut down for at least another five minutes," The Doctor said as he checked his sonic, back to business in an instant.

"In which case, let's concentrate more on running than talking, yeah?"

They all knew the human man had a point, and shut their mouths and increased their speed. A Cyberman's blast came towards them, and hit Rory's arm. Amy began to yell but Rory – despite grimacing from the pain – told her to stop fussing. They were gaining a lead, and when the TARDIS was in sight the Doctor instructed Amy to take Rory to the infirmary. The two Time Lords attempted to close the hangar door on the Cybermen, who would undoubtedly shoot them before they got to the TARDIS otherwise. The Doctor pointed the sonic at the door and it snapped shut. Unfortunately, not before a blast got through as the door went down.

The shot of energy hit Aliya directly in the stomach, and she cried out as she fell to the floor.

"No!" The Doctor yelled. He knelt by her and helped her up. She groaned and clutched her midriff.

"Cyberman blast. That's new," she managed to say as they slowly walked with her arm around his shoulders. They made it halfway back to the TARDIS before she let out another groan and her legs almost gave out.

"You're not alright."

"I know that," Aliya said with gritted teeth, "I was hit by a Cyberman." She winced as another jolt of pain hit her. When she looked down, her hand had begun to emit a faint golden glow. It didn't surprise her in the slightest. But the Doctor's eyes fell on it and then widened.

"No," he said, his voice low and forceful.

"It's okay."

"You're dying!"

"Not really."

"But-" The Doctor looked almost lost, his eyes rather frantic. "There hasn't been enough time, we've barely-" He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'm still getting to know this you."

"I thought this me was annoying and made you aggravated." She smiled at him weakly. He almost smiled back but then instead shook his head.

"No, I-" He hesitated. "I liked this you."

"Heated arguments and all?"

"Heated arguments especially." His eyes wandered back down to where the regeneration energy was spreading from her hands up her mostly bare arms. She couldn't read him then, but realised that the regeneration energy was probably affecting him. She hastily went to step back from him, but his hand grabbed hers. He could barely reach and they stood with their arms outstretched between them, his larger hand holding her glowing one tightly.

Aliya eyed the one place where they were touching. "Let go. Don't be an idiot. I'm about to burst with regeneration energy-"

There was no chance to finish her sentence because that was when he pulled her into a very warm, very tight hug. His arms wound around her, one curling to wrap around her shoulders while the other rested on her back. Even though she knew she needed to be putting distance between them, hers automatically moved to rest around his waist. She closed her eyes and let herself relish the feeling of it while she could. It had been far too long since she had been hugged like this, and this regeneration of his was an excellent hugger.

It came time for her to pull away, because the regeneration was burning hotter under her skin. But the Doctor barely allowed it and she only needed one look in his eyes to know the regeneration energy was getting to him. When his hands gripped her hips and pulled her back towards him, she realised what was about to happen a moment before it did.

"Don't you dare-" She tried to say, but the Doctor had already dipped his head and kissed her.

It was melancholy and desperate and wrong but for the first few moments she couldn't quite bring herself to remember why because the only thing she could think about was his lips on hers. Kissing him back was a reflex and a rush almost more invigorating than the regeneration flooding her system.

Then she came to her senses, tearing her mouth from his and slapping him across the face because she was so furious that she wasn't thinking straight and could only process the anger. He stared at her with shock, one hand to the cheek that had been struck.

The regeneration was upon her before they could speak again, and she reached into her jacket at the last second to pull out what she needed and drop it on the floor. The golden glow ripped through her body, healing and burning all at once. Through the haze of pain she was able to direct all the excess into her hand in the jar, which was now at her feet.

Really, why else did he think she had kept the hand in the first place? She had seen his memories and realised just how helpful it was to have a source of one's biological code at hand. And though she didn't know much about it, he had vaguely referenced once how he had postponed a regeneration by diverting the energy into his spare hand. So, she had realised that she could play copycat and buy herself extra time in a regeneration she was quickly getting attached to.

The Doctor just stared with surprise. "Oh," was all he said. So many conflicting emotions were playing across his face that she couldn't quite keep track of them.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She demanded. When she caught a glimpse of the red mark on his cheek in the shape of her hand, she winced. "Look, I'm sorry about hitting you, that was out of line. But you can't just-"

"I wasn't thinking," he was quick to say, making a face, "The regeneration energy, it just, you know-"

Aliya shook her head. "That's not an excuse! You need to learn some fucking self control," she told him, glaring, "You didn't seem to have any problem when I regenerated properly in front of you-"

"That was different-"

"How?!"

"I didn't know who you were, and there were distractions-"

Her body was shaking. "You shouldn't need distractions, it's not that potent an aphrodisiac! We can't have this be a problem if one of us needs to regenerate! Sort yourself out," she snapped, a hysteria rising in her, "Or I'll - I'll hit you again or tell your archaeologist girlfriend or just leave if it's really so impossible for you-"

"Stop it!" He shouted, anger and hurt flashing through his eyes. "This won't be a problem again, don't flatter yourself. As long as we don't try to hug each other when one of us is regenerating, we'll be fine."

Despite everything she had just been saying, his words stung and she had to hide that from him. After all, that was what she wanted to hear, wasn't it?

"Well, good," she said, her voice trembling. Bending down to retrieve her hand – very careful to only touch the container, because Rassilon knows what would happen if she touched the actual hand – and walking into the TARDIS, she left him outside with his jumbled thoughts.

Once inside she hurried up the stairs and to the infirmary to check on Rory. Blowing the excess regeneration energy off her hand, she put it back in her pocket before entering the room. Rory was sitting on the bed inside while Amy stood over him with sophisticated medical equipment from the future - which required no outside knowledge to use - and fussed despite his insisting that he was fine.

"Amy, I don't think he's going to die," Aliya laughed.

The red head spun around and smiled. "You two got in okay then?" Aliya's smile faded a little.

"Yeah, pretty much," she said vaguely.

Amy studied the blonde, who shifted awkwardly under her scrutiny. "You sure you're alright?" Aliya nodded earnestly, but in the distance they heard the Doctor entering the TARDIS and calling out Aliya's name and Aliya couldn't hide the panic on her face.

She headed for the door. "Sorry, um, got to go."

"What was that all about?" Rory's voice asked.

"I'll be right back," Amy's replied.

Hoping that meant she was going to the console room, Aliya rushed through the corridors. She didn't want someone else's room, a bedroom of a past companion where she felt like she was invading, she needed one of her own where she could be left to her thoughts in peace. Suddenly a voice came from nearby and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"You're not okay at all, what the hell happened out there?" Amy demanded from behind her. Aliya spun around and didn't reply, instead choosing to back to her search for her own bedroom. After all this time, there should be at least an empty one that hadn't been used before! "Well?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aliya muttered.

"Look, I might not have Rory's nursing instincts but I'm not an idiot, I know what it looks like when someone's been shaken up, and you have been," Amy insisted. Aliya turned away and walked down another corridor instead of answering, but the redhead followed.

"Look, Amy, I appreciate your concern, but I just want to be alone." Aliya rattled the handle of a door with no name on it, but it wouldn't open.

Amy shook her head. "No one wants to be alone when they're upset, not really."

Aliya continued to try every door she could and came across a door that had a label that said 'Romana'. She jumped back like it was a hot iron, and threw it a despaired look before continuing. "Has it occurred to you, Amy, that I was raised in a completely different culture to you and I might very well want different things to most people you know?"

"Well, okay, no, but-" Amy trailed off and crossed over to a door near her that Aliya had not checked. It was wooden, with a name carved into it in calligraphy. It read 'Aliya', and had a swirl of symbols underneath it. "Hey, I don't know what you're looking for, but this has your name on it."

Aliya could not hide her surprise. It was exactly what she had been hoping for, but had worried it would be too vain to ask. Which, now that she thought about it, was a bit ridiculous.

"What are these symbols?" Amy traced the pattern of symbols underneath the name.

Aliya came to stand next to her, and stared at the writing. "That's my name, but in Gallifreyan," Aliya said slowly. She ran her fingers over the symbols carved into the door. She hadn't realised how much she had missed seeing written Gallifreyan until that moment. Homesickness ached in her gut, heavy and potent and completely out of nowhere.

"That's your language? That's words?" Amy asked in disbelief.

"One word. But yes," Aliya said, trying to push her melancholy out of her mind. She put her hand on the handle and opened the door.

The room inside was very much in the Gallifreyan style of furnishing, being a perfectly circular room. There was a large bookcase waiting to be filled with books, a desk filled with stationery, and best of all, a large circular bed like the ones she had once had back home. The walls were green with darker green patterns that resembled Gallifreyan calligraphy, and the bed's duvet was a dark navy blue with a pale blue pillow.

The thing that caught her attention was the one bit of wall without any patterns, and she approached it.

"Why did you leave this bit blank?" She asked the ship quietly as she traced her fingers across it. A nudging feeling in the back of her mind led her to a small wooden box sitting on top of the room's desk. She pulled up the lid and photographs inside the size of a TARDIS manual page.

"Oh," Aliya said softly as she looked at a few.

Amy edged closer. "What? What is it?"

There were many photographs, full of people who would seem to be all different to a human eye, but in fact had only held nine different people despite there being sixteen faces. Her, Theta and Koschei. The Doctor and Susan wearing Earth clothing, so presumably after they left Gallifrey. Herself and Heta. Herself and Romana when the latter had still been at the Academy. The Doctor and Romana. Aliya's fourth incarnation with his fifth, alongside Tegan and Turlough, somewhere in France. Her fourth again, this time with the Doctor's seventh incarnation and his friend Ace who had liked carrying around explosives.

It was so strange to see such vivid images from her past in such a simple way, and she didn't know whether to cry or laugh. Her thoughts and reminiscing were interrupted by Amy, who she had forgotten was there.

"Who are all these people?" Amy asked.

"They're me. Me and the Doctor, and some of his older companions, plus a few others. "

"You and the Doctor?" She said in confusion. "But you…oh. Do you mean, when you had different faces."

"Yes."

"Can you tell me about them?"

Aliya hesitated, biting her lip before shaking her head slowly. "I'm still coming to grips with everything that's happened...I'm not really ready to talk about what was, not when so much of it is long gone."

"Oh...okay, sure. But are you going to put them up on that wall? That must be why they're there," Amy asked. Aliya looked between the wall and the photos. Finally, she shook her head again. "Why not?"

"I…just don't think I'm ready to face these memories yet. I can't just walk past them every day," Aliya said quietly. "I just…cant."

Her gaze fell back onto the one of her first self, Theta, and Koschei. Nausea rose in her and she reached for it so that she could rip the photo down the middle. The part showing the Doctor's youthful original face went back in the draw, and the other half she tore into pieces with a kind of desperation driving her shaking hands.

Amy lifted her eyebrows. "You're sure you're alright?"

"I am now," Aliya said, taking a deep breath and scooping the tiny scraps of the picture half into her hand from the desk's surface so that she could take it to the bin a few feet away and discard the remnants as the garbage they were.

"...okay..."

Aliya turned to her and wondered how to say what she needed to without being rude. "I'm sorry, but could I just have some time to myself?" She asked apologetically. "I need to think."

"Oh, sure. Sorry," Amy said quickly. "Bye. Sorry for prying, by the way. I really was just...trying to look out for you."

Instantly, Aliya felt rather awful. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm not used to people who aren't the Doctor or a member of my family doing that, is all. I do appreciate it." Amy nodded, looking a bit cheerier, and left the room.

The moment the door shut Aliya's hands flew into her hair and everything that had happened outside the TARDIS flooded back through her memories.

Why did he have to do that? He's moved on, he loved that Rose girl, and it's obvious that he's falling for River...

It was just the regeneration energy.

A part of her knew that it wasn't strictly true. With a past like theirs, it would never be 'just the regeneration energy'. But without it, he would never have done it, so the statement was accurate enough.

I don't love him anymore. We had our time.

After all, while there was still a connection there - and after centuries of friendship and the occasional moment involving other types of feelings, one would like to think there would be - half of it was just the fact that they were the same, that they could sense each other and only each other. It was intimate in its own way, and unavoidably so. But it wasn't inherently a problem.

The conclusion made her sigh with relief. Regardless of it, she still planned to avoid him for a while, just to make it easier on the both of them in light of what he had stupidly done. So instead, she looked around for something to occupy herself with.

She crossed over to her desk and found a journal in one of the drawers. It was beautiful in its simplicity, with a plain leather cover and unlined pages. With a small shrug to herself, she picked up the quill that sat amongst the ballpoint and biro pens and dipped it in the ink pot built into the desk. Then she began to write.

It was purely autobiographical, talking about herself and where her life was currently at, briefly discussing the Doctor and his companions and the delightfully enigmatic River Song. It was soothing, somehow, the writing, and when she eventually put the pen down she felt much better.

The real question was whether she could make it to the library and back without running into the Doctor.

Several days later, the Doctor and Aliya had not seen each other since they had escaped from the Cybermen. One thing was for sure…if there was a place you could avoid someone, it was the TARDIS. Amy felt concern as she met with the two individuals at different times across those days. Neither said anything about the other, merely made polite conversation. But they both seemed so on edge that the tension could almost be cut with a knife.

"But I don't get it. Why are they avoiding each other?" Rory asked Amy after one almost painfully awkward conversation with the Doctor.

"I don't know!" Amy sighed and shifted her position on one of the library sofas. "Whatever it was, it shook Aliya up pretty bad, she really didn't want to talk about it when I asked her."

"Well, I wish they'd would find some way to get past it, and soon," Rory said. "This is getting ridiculous."

Aliya was in the TARDIS kitchen.

Welding a wooden spoon with a firm grasp and sheer determination, she stacked the boxes and jars and containers of ingredients in a large pile next to the mixing bowl that had a diameter of about a foot and a half. She eyed the pile of ingredient filled containers warily. It looked as though it would topple any minute and land on her in a jumbled heap of pointy box corners. She abruptly set them all on the next side by side on the glass counter instead, deciding it to be much safer.

The blonde was clad in a bright yellow top which had a large picture of a cartoon sunflower printed onto it. That and a flouncy white skirt. Her feet were bare as she moved around the kitchen contently, hiding all traces of any worries she might have.

She took another look at the cookbook which as was following. She had found it lying open on the bench when she had entered the room, displaying a large and pretty picture of a cake covered in impressive decorations on one page and instructions on the other. With nothing better to do and her interest captured – she'd never eaten this 'cake' thing before, or cooked anything at all – she set to work following the instructions down to the very last detail.

She had only added the butter and sugar so far, but it already looked pale yellow and somewhat inviting. She dipped her finger in, and raised the blob of buttery sugary goodness to her lips before licking it hesitantly. A smile broke out on her face, and she ate the rest of the blob in one go.

Needless to say, a little more of the mix ended up in her mouth instead of in the bowl where it belonged. However, the next step said to add eggs. She had already found the cartons which had read eggs. Eggs, it would seem, were strange pale brown, round oval things that cracked into a sticky mess if you did not handle them delicately.

She had found out this the hard way, of course, though she had been entranced by the strange orange ball that floated in the sticky clear part.

But the instructions said: Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.

It seemed a strange thing to do, but who was she to argue with an official cookbook? Aliya knew many things, but methods in human cooking were not among she put the first of three eggs into the bowl where it sat atop the mix, looking very out of place. It said 'beat', so she hit it with the wooden spoon forcefully, causing the shell and sticky insides to disperse itself around the top of the mixture, floating along in the sloppy goo. She did the same for the next two eggs.

Eyeing the contents of the bowl, she mixed in the parts of the egg until she was satisfied. The mixture was now quite liquefied. It was also yellow with floating chunks of egg shell.

Gradually, Aliya became aware of a presence in the doorway behind her, someone watching her. She continued to stir the mixture, keeping her breathing even. She knew it was the Doctor, this close her mind could sense his, albeit very faintly.

She let herself glance back. He was leaning against the doorframe at the back right of the room, looking as daft and dashing and ever. She immediately turned her gaze back to the bowl.

"Hi," she said eventually. There were a few moments of silence.

"How have you been?" There was a slight hint of awkwardness in the Doctor's voice, but he did a good job of hiding it.

"Good." Her voice was vague. She could feel his eyes on her and it did little for her nerves, and so instead she tried to bring more to the conversation. "What about you?"

"Yes, um, fine," the Doctor said quickly. He held out his hands in a shrug. She now had her eyes fixed on him instead of the bowl, and her hands had paused in her work. "To be honest, I've been better, but we all have our ups and downs, I'm sure it'll pass."

She smiled softly, her lips twitching involuntarily. "Maybe. But I'm the same. I've also...had better weeks."

"Yes," the Doctor said with a nod. "And I think that these…recent developments are probably my fault."

Aliya abruptly turned back to her bowl and she went on with the mixing. "Probably," she finally said. Her voice was neutral and gave away nothing. His footsteps came closer, approaching her and stopping on her right side.

"So..." He dragged it out without finishing the sentence. He was clearly unsure of what to say.

Aliya forced her eyes to stay on the gloopy and somewhat crunchy concoction in her bowl, determinedly looking anywhere but him. "So," she repeated slowly. The question in her voice was obvious. The Doctor paused. Then he slowly placed his hands onto spoon, stilling the movement as his hand covered hers easily. Her eyes fixed on their touching hands as her whole body froze.

"Aliya." She said nothing, and didn't move an inch. "Ali, look at me." He grabbed her chin with the hand that was not touching hers and forced her to look at him. Their eyes met, and Aliya stared into the green eyes that could hold hers without even trying, even if perhaps he didn't realise. It was just his entire essence, his intensity, his passion for life, his compassion...all of it was in his eyes, and when they held that much, it was impossible to look away.

Why did he have to make everything so difficult?

"Aliya, I'm sorry," the Doctor said simply, "I'm sorry for what I did. I was stupid, and not thinking. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

Aliya did her best to smile. "It's fine. Really, don't worry about it. I hate dwelling on things, especially when it between me and you. You are an idiot though."

He grinned. There was a moment of slightly tense silence. And then he got distracted when he looked into her bowl and saw the chunks of egg shell poking through the surface.

With all of the messy emotional stuff out of the way and his embarrassing blunder hopefully behind them for good, suddenly Aliya's cake mix was the most important thing in the room as far as the Doctor was concerned.

"Aliya…?" He asked. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making cake, I think," she replied with genuine innocence, mirroring his confusion.

"Um…yes, but why are there egg shells in it?" The Doctor asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What, aren't you supposed to put the shells in?" Aliya asked, a frown appearing on her face.

The Doctor chuckled at the her expression and leaned his elbows on the counter. "No, not exactly," he replied, still chuckling. She glared before eventually letting her face convey how lost she was.

"Now what do I do, then?" She asked, looking almost upset.

He laughed at her childlike puzzlement before moving to stand next to her.

"Look, don't worry. We can fix it. All we need to do is pull the eggshell out." He told her, and threw his jacket onto a different counter before rolling up his sleeves. He then proceeded to pull out each piece of eggshell individually until no more could be seen.

"The instructions aren't very specific, are they?" Aliya said desperately, clinging for anything that would downplay her mistake a little. "It never said anything about not putting the shells in!"

The Doctor smiled fondly. "No, but every human is taught from a very young age to crack the egg open and only let the white and the yolk fall out." He began to add in the remaining ingredients.

"Oh." Aliya looked disappointed, which only made the Doctor smile more. "The white and the yolk?"

"The white is the translucent sticky stuff, and the yolk is that round orange part."

"But why is it called the white if it's not white?"

"Well, when it's cooked, it's white. You know, I had forgotten how little we knew about this sort of thing on Gallifrey. I suppose that's what you get when a race eats only vegetables and flavoured protein."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Food was so much simpler back home."

"Ah, but this way, there is a method, a proper process, techniques!" The Doctor exclaimed happily. "Cooking is an art."

"If you say so," Aliya said, rolling her eyes.

"It is! Now cheer up, this cake it going to be brilliant," the Doctor said. She said nothing and leaned against the counter. "Oh, lighten up!" He grabbed a tiny bit of flour and blew it in her face. It promptly landed on her nose, and in her hair. The Doctor was struck by the strongest urge to laugh at the look of utter bewilderment on her face.

Quickly, a grin formed there instead when she saw the playfulness in his eyes, and it immediately filled her own. She grabbed a handful of flour from the container, and threw it at him.

The game began.

Everything in that kitchen had been thrown, lobbed, dumped on, or squashed in some way. Even a little of the cake mix had gotten onto them before they had put it in the oven. Both Time Lords were a rather white and speckled sight, covered in flour and sugar. There were small spots of the brown cocoa that had at some point made its way out of the cupboard too.

Syrup had been a good one. Maple, golden, chocolate, caramel.

Name it, they were drenched in it.

At some point some alcohol had been found, and although they didn't have much it was enough to pump up their already hyperactive game into a jumble of ridiculous nonsense. The sprinkles had been an exciting discovery. With plenty to stick to thanks to the syrup, the Doctor and Aliya were now covered in every type of intergalactic sprinkle that existed. The eggs had been a particularly messy matter. Yolks lay all over the floor with a tiny bit of surrounding white, though most of the egg white was on the Gallifreyans, and not the floor.

The Doctor's bowtie was streaked with jalapeno sauce and coconut sprinkles. He straightened it anyway, and narrowed his eyes at the woman across the counter from him.

In her hands, Aliyanadevoralundar had a tin of canned fruit salad. She licked her maple syrup and dinosaur sprinkle covered lips and yanked the can open, shoving the contents towards the bowtie wearing man.

This was not play. This was war.

Amy and Rory found them about half an hour later.

They had heard noises coming from the kitchen, and eventually came to investigate. They pushed open the door, noting the mess of cream pie at their feet. The two humans tread carefully, not sure of what they would find. The entire floor was covered in a blurry haze of egg, syrup, flour, food, solid, liquid…and the same went for the surfaces of the counters. Rounding a corner, they found the two Time Lords sitting next to each other, leaning against a counter with their legs outstretched.

They were both completely covered in almost every home baking product that could be thought of, and more than a few extras. There was a blueberry pie sitting upside down on the Doctor's head, the filling slowly oozing into his hair. His cheek was streaked with cocoa and sugar, and sprinkles to boot.

"It's the Ponds!" He yelled happily, grinning drunkenly all the while.

Amy and Rory noticed that the Doctor and Aliya seemed to be taking turns having sips from a rather large bottle of vanilla essence.

"Doctor?" Amy asked, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrow. She could not help the disbelieving smile starting to spread across her face.

"What?" The man in question asked indignantly with an unnecessary amount of volume. "I haven't done anything!" He announced firmly. He then turned to his blonde companion next to him, who wore a party hat on her head. The sunflower on her shirt had been completely covered up with whipped cream. "I haven't done anything, have I?" He stage whispered.

She lowered the vanilla essence from her lips. "No, I don't think so," she whispered back.

"What have you two been doing?" Amy asked, like a mother discovering her children in the middle of an atrocious mess. The Doctor and Aliya exchanged a look of complete innocence.

"We made cake," they said in unison, grinning.

Some hours later, when the cake was baked and the Time Lords were 'sober', the four of them gathered at the dining table and cut up the cake. While some of the food had been easily removed, the stickier substance remained on their skin and in their hair. With luck a shower would take care of that.

Rory cut the cake, handing out slices. The cake was still warm, and had bright pink icing, a smudge of which was still on Aliya's cheek, and the Doctor's nose. The four of them quickly began to eat.

"You know," Amy said thoughtfully as she swallowed her first bite, "This is actually not half bad."

The others sounded their agreement. The serenity did not last long, however.

"Um," Rory asked, "Why is there a huge piece of eggshell in my cake?"

Aliya's expression turned to one of mortified embarrassment, her cheeks flushing scarlet. She tried to keep a straight face but the moment she met the Doctor's eyes, something snapped between them.

Within seconds the two Time Lords had erupted into hysterical laughter and nearly ended up on the floor.

All was well in the TARDIS.