Rose has not moved, Mickey states the obvious -- that they can't fly the TARDIS without the Doctor -- and Rose doesn't even bother answering.
The Doctor stands by the window, holding a glass of wine and looking up at the same stars, give or take three thousand light years/regular flavor years, depending on if you're talking Time or Relative Dimension In Space. Reinette joins him with her own glass and follows his gaze: "You know all their names, don't you? I saw that in your mind. The name of every star." Saw that in your mind: the name of every star. The infinity in that. "What's in a name?" he asks. "Names are just titles. Titles don't tell you anything." Like, she suggests, "the Doctor." Or, he counters, "Madame de Pompadour." We are the same. She laughs: "I have often wished to see those stars a little closer. Just as you have, I think." The Doctor admits that he's seen them, time to time. "In saving me, you trapped yourself," says Reinette. "Did you know that would happen?" The Doctor admits that he did, and earns a giant fucking smacking from yours truly. Why not just go to Hell, or Norway? "Yet still you came." He grins: "Catch me doing that again." And then I'll smack you again, idiot. "There were many doors between my world and yours." Technically, an infinity. It's the rules that are the problem: and those rules can change on the turn of a dime, depending on what's necessary to create the most painful drama possible. "Can you not use one of the others?" asks Reinette. No. The mirror breaking, the Doctor explains, would have cut all the links to the spaceship that is also a girl. "There'll be a few more broken mirrors and torn tapestries around here, I'm afraid: Wherever there was a time window. I'll -- I'll...pay for any damage." She laughs. The Doctor realizes that he'll need money: "I was always a bit vague about money. Where do you get money?" (The answer is equity, but that won't hurt for a while.) "So, here you are," says Reinette. "My lonely angel. Stuck on the slow path, with me." He cheers the slow path; they laugh and clink glasses. It's sad, but also awesome, even though you know it can't last. "It's a pity," she says, wiser still and stronger yet. "I think I would've enjoyed the slow path." The Doctor looks at her, confused: "Well, I'm not going anywhere." She smiles secretively: "Oh, aren't you? Take my hand." She sets down her wine and leads him off, to earn a new name again. To find a physical place that can become a spiritual state.