Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Just thought you might like to know that. Wasn't sure if you were clear on that.

OK, now we can go on with the story. Sorry for the bother!

Rose woke up groggily. Her bed seemed unusually hard, damp, and rough.

"Where . . . what happened?" she asked as she pulled herself to her feet using a metal support beam.

The Doctor, who had been out cold on the floor, suddenly reared up with no warning, screaming, "Jacket-morning-corner-memory-cartridge-cupboard-o nion-courier!" very fast.

Rose couldn't decide whether to leap back startled or to burst out laughing. She did neither, instead saying, "How long have we been out?"

"Do you think I know?" asked the Doctor. "More importantly, where are we? Who knocked us out? How far are we from the TARDIS?"

Rose shrugged. "Dunno. Seems like we're in some sort of - warehousey thing."

"We'd better get out, then," replied the Doctor. He and Rose walked to the door at the far end of the room. It was locked, but this was no match for the sonic screwdriver, which the Doctor pulled out and sonic-d the door with. A resounding click was heard, and then the Doctor pushed open the doors. He made a little clicking noise with his tongue.

"A padlock? They thought they could keep me in here with a padlock?" he asked incredulously.

Rose was more concerned with bright red telephone box across the street.

"Erm . . . Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"We were in New York City last I checked, right?"

"Of course we were, where else would you find a mutant colony of pollution-loving Magoritics living in the East River?"

"Are you sure about that? I mean, the TARDIS didn't get it wrong again, right?"

"You saw the Statue of Liberty, Rose."

"Because that wasn't a car they loaded us into."

"Well, what was it?"

"I don't know, a . . . not-car."

"What're you on about?"

Rose pointed at the telephone box. The Doctor groaned.

"We're in the UK? How did they get us all the way to the UK?"

"Says the man who took me to the end of the universe in both senses."

"But . . . the TARDIS is in New York City! It's going to take months to sail over there, and it's going to be uncomfortable, and they'll have plague-infected rats -"

"This isn't the thirteenth century, last I checked. We'll just take a plane with my mum's money, get the TARDIS, and take her back here with us."

A deadly silence fell upon them for several seconds before the Doctor replied, "I don't fly."

"'Course you do! You fly an alien time-travel machine daily. A plane'd be easier, even if you were planning on driving it yourself, which you're not going to be, I can promise you that."

"But - planes and the TARDIS are completely different! You know what planes are powered by? Highly flammable fuel. The TARDIS is powered by the energy of the universe - not flammable, not dangerous, certainly not an increasing risk factor of an imminent crash!"

"I don't believe this! You, the Doctor, a time lord from the far reaches of the universe, are afraid of flying?"

"No, not of flying! Of flying in ridiculously unstable devices! That would be like asking you to . . . to . . . to cross America on a motor-engine skateboard, or something!"

"That sounds amazing! Has anyone ever done that?"

"You're missing my point! I take it back, a boat would be better!"

"That's ridiculous. A boat would take months, versus just a couple hours for a plane."

"How about we have the TARDIS shipped?"

"You can't drive a moving truck across an ocean, Doctor."

"What about a boat?"

"Months versus hours. If you're too scared to go on a plane, we could ship the TARDIS over on a plane instead of you."

"NO! She is NOT going on a plane! Never! How about we just . . . deal with this diplomatically or something?"

Rose led the still-complaining Doctor away from the warehouse.

As Rose and the Doctor's taxi stopped in front of the airport, their argument still raged.

"Guess what? Six of every seven victims of cardiac arrest on a plane die. Bet you didn't know that. What if I have cardiac arrest, eh? What then?"

"Doctor, you have two hearts. If one goes out, the other one will still keep you going until we land."

"There's a reason why I have two hearts. I need both of them!"

"Doctor, I'm sure you're not going to have cardiac arrest."

"That's the whole point! It comes suddenly, when you least expect it!"

"Well, keep expecting it and you should be fine."

"Did you know that 18,722 people have died in plane accidents since 1999? We could make that 18,724. How would you like to add two to that number?"

"If you keep complaining, I'm only going to add one, and he'll be gone before the plane even takes off."

"76% of people in an airplane crash die. I really don't think the odds are in our favour, do you?"

"Where are you getting all of these statistics?"

The cab driver had taken all he could of this.

"You owe me £96," he said pointedly.

"Oh yeah, sorry," replied Rose, who hastily paid him and got out, dragging the Doctor with her.