“Pol? You awake?”
Polly peered across the dimly lit room. “What’s wrong, Ben? Can’t you sleep?”
“How can I? Between the Doctor…changing and acting all peculiar and these Dalek things, how could anyone?”
“Don’t worry, the Doctor will figure it out. He always does.”
“If it is him. And anyway, if you’re so sure of that why are you awake?”
“Because this couch is hard.” She wiggled, trying to find a comfortable spot.
Ben smiled. “You’d never make it in the navy, Duchess.”
“Do you mind?” The Doctor’s voice was dryly polite. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”