"Right, well," Jack said, standing tall (and rather early-morning proud) and being decidedly un-awkward. "I'll do that, you--" he said, and pointed towards his discarded wistrap that had at some point fallen to the floor, "--fix that. It's still broken."

He located his trousers on the floor and pulled into them, along with his undershirt. Walking past the Doctor, he decided the very best thing to do in that moment was smack him decidedly and cheekily on the backside.

"Such a good ass," he said because he'd decided not to be tempering himself now.

He didn't bother to put his shoes on, and already he was heading for the door. "You want anything else from out?"