It was a typical spring day; the sun was bright and little fluffy clouds scuttled across an azure sky. There was a breeze, though enough heat filtered down to stop the day feeling cold. Still the temperature was such it was comforting to cup the carton of chips and warm your hands.

Rose sat on the railing, one foot hooked under the lower bar, the other swinging carelessly. She watched the passing bustle of people and shifted slightly as the cold of the metal reached her skin through her jeans. She bit into another chip, tasting copious amounts of salt and vinegar. Licking her lips, she pondered ketchup and giggled.

"What's funny?" The Doctor had leant his elbows on the railing and was watching the boats. As well tormenting the collection of pigeons and seagulls that were eyeing up the chips. They were edging closer even now, beady black eyes hungry but wary, looking for an opening.

"I was thinking about ketchup," said Rose.

There was another squawk and flurry of wings.

"How is ketchup funny?"

"It's not. I was just wondering whether to get some and then realised I've just see the world blow up and I was worrying about ketchup."

There was a pause as he just looked at her. "You're weird," he informed finally.

Rose sniffed. "He travels in a blue box and he calls me weird."

"No, contemplating ketchup is weird."

"It's an allegory," Rose told him airily.

"Right."

"It is. It represents what everybody wants but they don't really need."

"But of course. How did I not see that?"

"Don't know. Oh, watch out for the…"

"Oi!"

"Seagull."