intersections

Rose hadn't expected to meet strangers in the TARDIS.

"Another one," the blond man in grey said, with the air of a disgusted entomologist. "Why does he have to keep --"

"Don't worry about us, dear," the blonde woman in blue told Rose. She had a perfect smile. "We're just keeping tabs on things."

"Should I know you?"

"No."

"Should I tell the Doctor?"

"Probably better not," the woman said, with another dazzling smile. "It'd just worry him."

"But if you're Time Lords --"

"Us? No." The man snorted. "We're . . . agents. We handle irregularities."

"And we're gone."

And they were.

---

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