The Doctor sipped, still on his first drink. "So, were you a drama teacher before coming here? Or is this a new career move?"

"May I ask what it was you did before?" The Doctor said. "I spilled a lot about myself earlier. Seems only fair that I learn a little about you."

"Actress? Stage, screen, or radio?" The Doctor asked.

The Doctor wretched. "Television and reality are things best kept seperate," he said. "But I suppose work is work."

"Morals are good," the Doctor said. "I don't suppose I've seen anything you were in, have I?"

The Doctor tilted his head. "You don't look like the type of lady who's had plastic surgery."

The Doctor nodded. "Well, I'm sure some night we can kick back and admire your old work," he said. "A couch, some popcorn, and a heap of irreverant fun."

The Doctor gave a bizzare smile. "Time machine, remember?"

"Anything's possible," the Doctor said. "Though mucking about with important events has its risks."

"Altering the entire course of the universe because you sneezed on the wrong fellow?" the Doctor said. "Drop a pebble in an ocean, it may take awhile to see where the ripples end up."

"Laws of time, and all that," the Doctor said. "Never know when you might accidently turn the entire evolution of the human race into shrimp-people."

"Thankfully, the shrimp-people thing has yet to occur," the Doctor said. "I'm very careful that way." He paused. "Though here I am, going on about me again. I must be dreadfully boring."

The Doctor smiled. "I'm getting honeyed, me," he said. "I've not been honeyed in a long time. And this is the kind that doesn't end up all sticky over you, so it's the best kind. Even if you can't spread it on toast."