On his ship, in the pilot's seat, Captain Jack apologizes for not bringing them along: "Used the emergency teleport...it's security-keyed to my molecular structure. I'm working on it. Hang in there." As the Doctor notes that the wires to the radio are completely severed, Jack twists knobs and presses buttons most impressively. The Doctor asks, "How're you speaking to us?" Jack calls it "Om-Com," saying that he can communicate through anything with a speaker grille. There's a whole Excellent breakdown where they discuss that the child can do the same thing.The Doctor mentions the TARDIS phone, and the child finally speaks from the radio: "...I can hear you. Coming to find you. Coming to fiiiiind you..." Captain Jack offers to block for them, because it is awful and horrible and creepy -- "Coming to find you, Mummy!" -- and starts up "Moonlight Serenade" for them. Glenn Miller as territorial pissing. Rose gives a cute, embarrassing face at the Doctor's questioning look: "...Our song." He nods at her, but isn't totally cool with her and Jack having a song. Rose kind of weakly hops around, weirded out.

Nancy approaches the RESTRICTED bomb site and starts to cut through a mended area in the barbed-wire fence.

Rose continues to hop around: "What you doing?" The Doctor replies: "Trying to set up a resonation pattern in the concrete, loosen the bars." She asks him whether he "finks" that Jack is coming back, and he doesn't, and she asks the Doctor why he won't trust Jack. He asks her why she trusts Jack. "Saved my life!" she says. "Bloke-wise, that's up there with flossing." The Doctor does not answer. Rose pushes again: "I trust him because...he's like you. Except with dating and dancing." Snip and we're in. If she's this good at the game, why the hell piddle around with stupid Mickey? "You just assume I'm..." the Doctor snarfles, "...You just assume that I don't...dance." He's wounded and a bit vulnerable, like he's feeling the creeped-out sexual repression of half of The 40 Year-Old Virgin fandom breathing down his neck. Rose: "What, are you telling me you do? Dance?" The Doctor points out that he's nine hundred years old: "I've been around a bit. I think you can assume that at some point I've 'dahnced.'" (This last word quite proper.) She continues to grin at him, yelping, "You! Doesn't the universe implode or something if you...dance?" (That's nothing, motherfucker: try suggesting he regenerate as a woman.) "Well," he says off-handedly, "I've got the moves. But I wouldn't want to boast."