For a moment the Doctor thinks she's not there, that's she's not going to answer, even if he can see the vague warmth of a light within. He's about to turn aside, back into the dark night, when the door cracks open.

He's soaked through, and he stands arms crossed in front of him, desperately pulling his jacket closed across his chest as he shivers, cold from the rain. His hair is plastered against his face, and his bowtie barely recognisable around his neck.

"Melody Malone?" he asks as she opens the door a crack. "Please. I need your help."

Because for once, it's the Doctor that needs help, and if anybody can, it'd be her.