'You're the one wanted the electric kettle.'

'Did not.'

'Did so.'

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

'You said it made the kitchen homey,' she said.

'I never.'

'You did.'

'I never said "homey". I'm not into "homey".'

'Oh no,' she said drily. 'Not your image at all.'

'I supposed your family never had a kettle like this.'

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

Anji looked at the humble aluminium object. 'Everyone in Britain had a kettle like that. It's a twentieth-century icon. Like red phone boxes.'

'Or police call boxes. So you see, it fits.'

'Oh,' she said. 'A design design choice.' Her eyes narrowed. 'Are you sure it's plugged in?' choice.' Her eyes narrowed. 'Are you sure it's plugged in?'

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

'What?'

'Plugged in. Are you sure you plugged it in?'

''Course I plugged it in!'

'Only you're not used to having to plug things in any more.'

'That doesn't mean I'd forget how, does it?'

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

Anji pulled at the cord. It came easily up over the edge of the table, dragging a bulky black plug.

'Bollocks,' said Fitz.

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

'If you don't like it, you should just go in another room,' she said.

'The kettle?'

'His bouncing the ball against the wall. You should just go in another room.'

'I've got to wait for the kettle to boil, haven't I?' he said, stooping to the socket.

'Suit yourself.'

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

'Only I don't know why he chose the room next to the kitchen.'

'He probably didn't think.'

'Yeah.'

'He probably didn't realise you'd be trapped here, held hostage to ancient technology.'

'He's been doing it for hours.'

'Hm?' Anji was rummaging again.

'He'd been at it when I came in for breakfast. And now it's teatime.'

'Well, there's no harm in it, is there? Have you seen that packet of American crackers?'

'But why?'

'It's just a game.' She tried another cabinet.

'Maybe he's putting himself in a trance.'

'He doesn't need to bounce a ball for hours to do that that.'

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

'You could ask him,' she said.

'Yeah.'

'Well?'

'Well, I hate to interrupt interrupt him.' him.'

'Suit yourself.'

Packet of crackers under an arm and jar of peanut butter in hand, she left. Fitz glumly watched the kettle.

'Siberia's going to be a nice change,' he muttered.

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

With a sigh, Fitz went into the next room. The Doctor was standing in its centre, throwing a tennis ball so that it hit the floor, then the wall, then bounced back to him. His face was grave. He'd been pretty sombre in general recently. Distracted. And he never had said exactly what became of that time machine.

'So,' said Fitz.

Thump. Thwack Thwack.

Pause.

'Mm?' said the Doctor.

'This ball thing.'

'Yes?'

'What about it?'

The Doctor looked at him, puzzled. 'What about it?'

'Yeah. I mean, you've been doing it for a bit.'

'Seventeen hours and forty-three minutes.' Thump. Thwack Thwack. Pause. 'That's forty-four minutes now.'

'Right. But... What I mean is, is there a point?'

The Doctor's concentration was back on his game. 'You know, there are gaps between the atoms of this ball.'

'Yeah.'

'And there are gaps between the atoms of the wall.'

'OK.'

'So it is, of course, possible for the gaps to line up and the ball to go through the wall.'

'Well, sure. Only it never happens, does it?'

'If you wait long enough,' said the Doctor, 'everything that is possible happens.' Thump. Thwack Thwack. Pause. 'It has to, in fact.'

'Yeah, but... A ball never goes through a wall. A ball never has gone through a wall. Has it?'

'No.'

'I mean, what are the odds?'

'Hard to calculate exactly. Ten to the power of a few hundred, I'd imagine.' Thump. Thwack Thwack. Pause.

'You're not going to... You're not planning to keep on until the ball goes through the wall, are you?'

'Well,' said the Doctor, 'I thought I might.'

'You're going to stand here for zillions of years?'

'That wouldn't work. I'd be long dead.'

'Well, you'll be long dead before the odds come up anyway, won't you? Not to mention me. Not to mention probably the whole universe.'

'Mm.' Thump. Thwack Thwack. Pause. 'We've talked about probability.'

'Yeah. Well, you have. I've listened mostly.'

'Well, as long as probability is functioning, then yes, both of us will likely be long dead before this ball could ever go through the wall. We can't physically wait long enough for the odds to come up. But if the wave function collapses, if "long enough" becomes "now"...'

'But what could make that happen?'

'That's the question.'

Fitz looked closely at the Doctor's face, trying to discern whether he were having him on. The Doctor turned to meet his gaze. His eyes had that flat, faraway look that always gave Fitz a tiny shiver.

'Well,' Fitz said, 'I'll leave you to it.'

The Doctor nodded and turned back to the ball. Fitz returned to the kitchen.

Thump. Thwack Thwack. Pause.

'But if the wave function collapses...' the Doctor murmured.

The ball went, through the wall.

'Ouch!' said Fitz.