"Table for two, please. This is the Doctor." There was a pause. "Right. I'll see you in 2.2606 times ten to the 142nd galactic years." He hung up the TARDIS telephone and grinned at Rose, as if he had just done something terribly impressive.

Rose, however, was unimpressed. She was standing with her arms folded, her face registering obvious disbelief. "You're joking."

"I'm not joking. Why would I be joking? We have a reservation. Delightful little place, you'll love the--"

"It's a book, all right, a book. Mickey had it. It was one of his favourites."

"Ah yes, Douglas Adams…alas...marvelous sense of humour, tremendous talent, such a shame..."

"Besides," added Rose, "it's impossible. It's the end of the universe. Isn't everything falling into a giant fireball or something?"

"You mean the Big Crunch?" The Doctor enthusiastically pantomimed smashing something together between his hands. "No, that's not how it ends. There's no rewind button on the Big Bang. Dark energy makes the universe keep expanding, faster and faster. Eventually the stars all go out. Protons decay. Black holes evaporate and disappear. Nothing more can happen, and so time stops. The universe dies."

This dismal description gave Rose pause for a moment or two; but then she insisted, "You're not fooling me. You're kidding about the restaurant."

The Doctor smiled. "Mickey's book has the name wrong. It's the Restaurant at the End of the Multiverse."

(The story thus far: Rose, stranded in a post-Doomsday parallel universe, has managed to find that universe's Doctor. He isn't the Doctor she knew: he is in his Eighth incarnation, and the Time War hasn't happened--yet? For further details of their meeting and first adventure together, read Doomsday Dimensions.)

Rose approached the TARDIS doors with some slight hesitation. It had been an odd trip. The Doctor had set the navigational controls with exceptional care, even shushing Rose at one point for interrupting him. Once en route, they seemed to travel much more slowly than usual, especially as they approached their destination; indeed, the materialisation phase had lasted at least half an hour instead of the usual few seconds. Some small part of her still believed the Doctor was playing an elaborate joke on her. But another part of her wondered, if he were serious, what indeed she might find here, at the end of all things. She opened the door half-way and peered outside.

She saw nothing but blackness.

"Watch your step," said the Doctor, coming up behind her.

"There's nothing to step on," Rose protested. "There's nothing out there. It's all--nothing."

The Doctor eased past her. He stepped into the blackness, then turned towards her, his face lit by the glow of the TARDIS. "It's all right. The floor is solid." He extended his hand and helped her down.

When the TARDIS doors swung shut behind them, Rose couldn't see at all. The Doctor took her elbow and guided her forward. Rose realised that she had to trust him, quite literally, blindly. At their first meeting, she had leapt into his arms without even looking to see who he was. Here she was--again--impossibly far from home with a man who was little more than a stranger to her. "This is really stupid," she muttered. "Someone's going to break their neck. Why does it have to be so dark?"

"Strictly speaking, it doesn't have to be dark at all," said the Doctor. "The Proprietor just likes to milk the whole end-of-the-universe motif. It is a bit over the top, don't you think?" Rose cracked a slight smile.

Presently, Rose's eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she was able to see that she was in a long corridor. The floor and walls were covered in some sort of black material that swallowed light and muffled sound. The ceiling glowed a faint purplish-blue. The corridor opened into a larger antechamber, one wall of which was entirely covered in photographs. Curious, she approached them to get a closer look.

Each photo featured a middle-aged man in a white dinner jacket. His jet-black hair was slicked back and he had an enormous, brilliantly white smile. He was standing next to a variety of other people and aliens. Many of the photographs appeared to be signed. Scanning the pictures, she recognised one of the man's companions as the Face of Boe. In another picture, she saw the man standing next to a flat creature that resembled a trampoline. "Cassandra?" she wondered. A man dressed in a spangled, bell-bottomed leather jumpsuit caught her eye. His dark hair was arranged in a pompadour, and he wore sunglasses. He was surrounded by waist-high green creatures which had three fingers and a single bulbous eye in the middle of their foreheads. She peered at the signature, trying to make it out.

"I really ought to take that one down," said a voice behind her. "I ask you, who goes to a quality restaurant and orders fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Terrible tippers, took weeks to clean up the mess." Rose turned around. The man in the white dinner jacket was grinning at her. His teeth seemed to glow. Then he caught sight of the Doctor. "Aaaaay, Doctor, good to see you, it's been too long!" He grabbed the Doctor and pulled him into a hug, kissing him on both cheeks.

"Rose," said the Doctor, disentangling himself, "this is the Proprietor."

"Rose?" said the Proprietor, taking her hand. "Would you be Rose Tyler, by any chance?"

"Er...yes," said Rose, a little confused.

"I have a message for you." With a flourish, the Proprietor handed her a folded sheet of paper.

"Who would be sending me a message? Who'd send me a message here?"

The Doctor smiled smugly. "I am brilliant, truly brilliant," he said. "The magnitude of my genius is simply astonishing."

Immediately Rose became convinced that he was playing a trick on her. "What did you do?" she asked. "What's the joke? Come on, out with it."

"No joke," he said, now grinning widely. "Read your message."

"Is every Doctor in every universe this irritating?" Rose flipped the note open and read it. Greatly confused, she glanced up at the Doctor for a moment. She read it again.

"Did you send this?" she asked the Doctor, finally.

"No, I didn't send it. Not me. Not this Doctor." He was still smiling, but his blue eyes were boring into her, as if willing her to understand.

In a flash of insight and absolute joy, she understood.

The message read:

Dear Rose,

Congratulations on finding the restaurant! It's on a node, so I shouldn't have too much difficulty getting there. I've a fair idea who you're with, so I feel it my duty to warn you: he's a tedious bore. Hope you don't mind if I crash your date.

The Doctor