The Doctor had deposited Rose's bag in the hallway, as she'd asked. After that he'd returned to the console room to run a few scans of the beach area. There were no signs of seismic activity, and he could find no human or mechanical interference, either. He'd thought the planet devoid of humanoid life, and the scan confirmed this. He wondered for a moment if something from the ship had caused the significant tremor. He ran a few diagnostics but found nothing out of the ordinary. There was a low-level energy signature emanating from the ocean floor, but he knew that the plants processed sunlight deep within the root system, so he supposed that was the source of the reading.

He thought that sufficient time has passed for Rose to have finished her shower. When he checked one of the clocks on the console, he found that he'd spent over an hour on the scans. He wondered where Rose was. Surely she wasn't still working on her hair?

He walked down the hallway to the large bathroom and found it deserted. He noticed that her basket was gone. She'd probably returned to her room for her make-up. He hurried along the corridor.

Her door was only partially closed. He spoke her name softly but got no reply. The Doctor poked his head inside.

Rose was in bed, fast asleep. Well, that really wasn't surprising, considering what she'd been through. He crept closer, listening to her gentle, steady breathing. He lifted the comforter to check that the brace remained in place. Satisfied, he took a step back. Sleep really was the best thing for her; her body knew what it needed.

He left her room and walked softly to his own chamber. His clothing was stiff from the dried salt water, and his hair felt distinctly sandy. He was due a shower, too.


He had been back in the console room for at least an hour when she called him. Her voice seemed faint as it traveled through the corridor and up to where he stood. The Doctor hurried down the ramp and to her room.

"Rose, what's the matter?" he asked, not bothering to knock.

She was sitting up in bed, her hair rumpled and eyes slightly puffy from sleep. "Can you take this off now?" she asked, tapping lightly at the brace.

He grinned in relief. "Probably. I just need to run a quick scan to be sure everything's fully healed."

She frowned. "Am I gonna have to go back to the infirmary?"

"Nope. I'll just fetch a portable scanner. You sit tight."

She sighed. "With this thing on, 's hard to do much of anything else!"

He hastened down the hall to get the necessary device. He scanned her femur carefully and found it fully healed. He offered her a smile and removed the brace.

She moved her leg about, touching it gingerly. "I'd never know it'd been broken!"

"What can I say? I'm good," he replied none too humbly.

She leaned forward to hug him. "Yeah, you are. Thanks."

"So," he said, finally releasing her, "feeling hungry?"

She nodded. "Yeah, actually. You?"

"Famished!"

He stood and offered her his hand. She got up, nearly stumbling as she placed both feet on the floor. He steadied her, his expression changing quickly to one of concern.

"Is the leg stiff or numb?" he asked. He bent and ran his hand over the limb.

"No, 's fine. 'S just… I dunno. Think it was the expectation that it'd be weak or somethin'." She took a tentative step, then another. "Feels good."

He watched her movements carefully. "You sure? Maybe I should do a more thorough scan—"

She turned to him. "No, Doctor, I'm fine, really." Her stomach chose that moment to give a rumble of protest. "Well, except for bein' hungry."

"That I can fix," he said, extending his hand again.

"What d'you have in mind?"

"Whatever sounds good to you."

She thought for a moment. "Nothin' seafood based. How 'bout fondue?"

"Fondue?"

"Yeah, y'know, big pot of melted cheese with stuff to dip into it—"

"I know what it is, Rose! But what made you think of it?"

"Dunno, really. Just sounds warm an' satisfyin'."

"Ah, in the mood for comfort food. I think I could do with some, too. And I know just the place to get it!"

Rose grinned up at him. "I'm sure you do!"


When she opened the door, a blast of cold air slammed Rose in the face. She shivered. The Doctor had told her to put on warm clothes, and she'd added a second jumper, a pair of jeans, and a jacket, but still the chill seemed to bite through her.

She peered outside to find snow-covered mountains rising all around. She realized that they'd landed in the foothills; the town lay a short distance down a narrow road. She could see the stone buildings below.

"Couldn't you of got us any closer?" she asked.

He poked his head out. "Probably, but a brisk walk'll do you good. Get the circulation back into that leg. And believe me, there's nothing as delicious, as utterly scrumptious, as hot, bubbly, cheesy fondue when you've just come in from the cold."

He took her arm and led her outside, inhaling the cold air with relish. He was grinning, obviously pleased to be here. Rose was less than thrilled at the prospect of a long walk; she was still awfully tired. But his enthusiasm was somewhat contagious, and after a few minutes she felt a bit more energized.

"So this looks like Earth. Are we in Switzerland?"

"Nope."

"But isn't that where they make the best fondue?"

"Ah, a common misconception, just like the one about chips coming from France originally, when actually they were discovered in Belgium. Most people think fondue originated in Switzerland—Swiss fondue and all—but really these folks were the first to think of the idea."

"An' exactly where are we?"

"Italy. Those," he gestured toward the mountains to their left, "are the Alps, but we're on the Italian side, in the Valle d'Aosta. And that," he pointed toward the town they were approaching, "is the Aosta part of the Valle. Best fondue in the universe, right here! They use this special fontina, makes the fondue just a bit tangy."

"Mmm, you're makin' me even hungrier!"

He continued to extol the virtues of the local cuisine as they made their way into the town. He paused just long enough to point out the remains of a wall built by the Romans and offer a brief lecture on the culinary preferences of Augustus Caeser.

Daylight was waning as they walked into town. The Doctor spent several minutes trying to recall where his favorite restaurant was. By the time he'd remembered, soft flakes of light snow were falling.

"D'you think there's gonna be a storm?" Rose asked.

"Oh, these are just flurries. It's not cold enough to snow," he replied with confidence.

Rose doubted his meteorological assessment but refrained from saying anything. Truth be told, the walk had thoroughly worn her out, and she was almost too tired to talk. She slipped her gloved hand into his and let him lead her along.

Finally they reached the restaurant. It was in the basement of an ancient stone building; the top floors housed a small inn. The Doctor opened the door and ushered her down the narrow stairs.

A warm fire glowed at the back of the room. A waiter immediately escorted them to one of the half dozen tables, thankfully the one nearest the fireplace. Rose shuddered as she sat down and the waiter helped her off with her coat. He took her wrap and the Doctor's to hang near the door.

Gradually she grew warmer. The glass of wine helped, and the steaming, burbling fondue was most welcome, too. True to the Time Lord's word, it was delicious. Pieces of crusty, slightly dry bread accompanied the pot, and they absorbed the thick, cheesy mixture perfectly.

By the time they'd finished their meal, Rose was no longer cold, but she was sleepy. She had to drag herself out of her chair, yawning widely more than once. She bundled into her coat, becoming chilled as they left the warmth of the fire.

When the Doctor opened the door and she saw the heavy snow falling, Rose nearly cried. She was already so cold, and so tired, and the thought of the long, freezing walk back to the TARDIS was almost too much.

"'S not just flurries," she said.

His eyes rose toward the sky. "No, it's not."

Rose was biting her lip, fighting against the tears welling in her eyes. She was being ridiculous. Tired or not, a walk in the snow was nothing daunting—not compared to the monsters and menaces she and the Doctor routinely faced.

"Let's see if they have any rooms available," he was saying.

"What?"

"Room at the inn," he clarified cheerfully. "C'mon, Rose. It'll be fun. And in the morning we can sample all the local pastries. Ooh, Italian pastries with a Swiss influence! They are very, very good."

He took her hand again and led her up the stairs to the tiny reception desk. They discovered that there was one room available. To her surprise, he said, "We'll take it," then flashed the psychic paper handily.

The room was cozy, with a fireplace and diminutive sitting area. There were two beds and a small bath. Rose thought immediately that it was perfect… perfect for a good, long sleep, which was all she wanted.

However, the brief moments in the cold night air had left her shivering. She quickly amended her mental list of desires to add a blazing fire.

"Rose, you're cold," the Doctor said, seeming to notice her shudders for the first time.

"Sn… snowin'," she reminded him.

"But not in here." He frowned lightly then offered her a tight smile. "I'll start a fire, have you warm as toast in no time."

There was already wood in the grate. He grabbed a few sheets of newspaper from the small bin beside the hearth and crumpled them before setting them upon the wood. He withdrew his sonic screwdriver and switched it on. Rose waited anxiously for the papers to ignite.

Nothing happened. He tapped at the tiny buttons again with the same unsatisfying result.

"What's… wrong?" she managed.

"It's not working. The water must've damaged it."

"Thought… you said… it was… waterproof."

"It is! It's just—" He shook the instrument then held it to his ear. "It's just a bit waterlogged."

"Try… a… match," she suggested.

Within a minute a cheery blaze crackled in the fireplace. Rose crept closer, her legs leaden, and held out her heavy arms. The warmth gradually reached her palms. She sighed and sank down into a chair, her eyes closing of their own volition as overwhelming fatigue crashed over her.