Elton scoots into the bathroom, shrugging off his jacket. "And there I was. The ultimate Step Five." He starts preening, spraying deodorant, fixing his hair, gargling mouthwash, practicing his boxing moves. "The perfect infiltration. Target: Jackie Tyler." I hope you die, Elton Pope. He snaps his fingers at himself, clucking like a wolf, and heads back to Jackie's bedroom: "You're right, it is a bit hot. But it's about to get hotter!" He stands, arms akimbo, a...hell of a lot easier to take with his shirt off. If I hadn't seen Paul Chequer do this routine like a thousand times cuter in sinchronicity, which I watched conservatively a billion times during the Manchester What Are You Like experiment, maybe I'd consider it. As it is, the view's not bad. Jackie sits on the bed in tears, and says goodbye to Rose, on the phone: "I'll see you soon. All right, be careful." Elton's creepy grin drops and he looks at her, concerned, asking if everything's all right. "That was my daughter," says Jackie. She turns, in tears, and finally sees Elton, naked. He has the grace to look ashamed; she waves it off apologetically: "Oh, look at you. I'm sorry. I was just being stupid." Elton asks if Rose is okay, and Jackie sighs: "She's so far away. I get left here sometimes and, um...I don't know where she is. Anything could be happening to her, anything. And I just go a bit mad." She sits in that for a second and looks at Elton pleadingly: "Put your shirt back on." Elton asks quietly, again, where Rose is. "Doesn't matter," says Jackie. "I'm sorry. You'd better go." Drink. Elton turns to leave, and then has a thought. A human, Ferdinand kind of thought. "Actually..." In voice-over, you can hear him grinning sweetly: "Funny the things you think of with your shirt off. But that's when I realized what was really important." He tells Jackie not to mind about Rose -- that he won't ask any more questions: "And I will put my shirt back on, because I'm going to go out and get us both a pizza, because I reckon you need cheering up. She goes swanning off and who's left to care about you, eh? So I say a nice bit of pizza, we'll put the telly on nice and loud, and annoy that woman next door. Just you and me as proper mates. Yeah? Mates. Go on. Say yes..." Jackie whispers, charmed: "Yes!" Elton smiles beautifully.

To the sound of ELO, Elton walks back with a pizza: "All of a sudden, a lot of things made sense. I'd got so lost in conspiracies and aliens and targets, I'd been missing the obvious. Because I did like Jackie, but I liked someone else even more!" Back in his flat now, dancing irritatingly to "Mr. Blue Sky" again, Elton thinks and thinks about Ursula, how much fun they have together. If Jackie's a "proper mate," then that's not Ursula's designation anymore. Funny the things you think of with your shirt off.