.
.
Overhead lights shut down. The Doctor scrunches her face, peeling off her worker's apron.
"My thief…"
"Oi!" the Doctor yelps, jolting round and brandishing her sonic. A hologram of a woman materialises.
"My beautiful idiot… you haven't changed at all…"
The Doctor lowers her arm, completely awestruck. Idris — her TARDIS matrix — beams, tinged in golden time-energy.
"You told me… once… that I was the most beautiful thing…"
"…I've ever known," the Doctor recites with her, smiling widely, tearfully. "It's really you, old girl? Isn't it?"
"I like it when you call me that…"
"I like it when you like it."
.
.