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Blue light trickled around them as they sat on the TARDIS threshold, watching stardust fall. Fragments of the distant supernova tumbled in pin-pricks of light, dancing on the force-field which separated them from the vacuum. A rainbow of colours adrift in a dark universe.
The cosmic illuminations silenced Peri’s perennially caustic tongue.
‘Well,’ she thought. ‘It beats watching him fish.’
She glanced at the Doctor. How quiet he was, rocking on the TARDIS porch, in an ancient grandfather chair, drizzled in starlight. Peri could forgive him almost everything in this moment.
“Peri," said the Doctor, "Put the kettle on. There’s a good girl.”
Or maybe she couldn’t.