"You look like a ghost."

"Hold on."

"Can I—?"

"I'm still just an image. No touch."

"Can't you come through properly?"

"The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse."

"So?"

"Where are we? Where did the gap come out?

"We're in Norway."

"Norway. Right."

"About fifty miles out of Burgen. It's called 'Dårlig Ulv Stranden'."

"Dalek?"

"Dårlig. It's Norwegian for bad. This translates as Bad Wolf Bay. How long have we got?"

"About two minutes."

"I can't think of what to say!"

"You've still got Mister Mickey, then?"

"There's five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey and the baby."

"You're not?"

"No. It's mum. She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way."

"And what about you? Are you...?"

"Yeah, I'm back working in the shop."

"Oh, good for you."

"Shut up. No, I'm not. There's still a Torchwood on this planet. It's open for business. I think I know a thing or two about aliens."

"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. You're dead, officially, back home. So many people died that day and you've gone missing. You're on a list of the dead. Here you are, living a life day after day. The one adventure I can never have."

"Am I ever going to see you again?"

"You can't. "

"What're you going to do? "

"Oh, I've got the Tardis. Same old life, last of the Time Lords. "

"On your own. I...I love you."

"Quite right, too. And I suppose, if it's one last chance to say it, Rose Tyler—"

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I lied. Mum isn't pregnant. I am. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."