I know that man. Rose thinks. I know I do. But where have I seen him before?
She puts down the folded shirt she's been examining and walks closer to the shop window.
The man in question is standing at an intersection across the street, squinting up at the traffic signal. He seems to be watching it, waiting for it to change.
He is slightly tallish, dressed in a brown overcoat and battered hat, a long scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. A perfectly normal looking man. And yet...and yet there is something about him, something out of place in a very familiar way.
The light changes, and she watches him tilt his head down slightly, now looking at the traffic sliding by. A bus rumbles past, obscuring her view, and when it is gone so is the man.
"Excuse me, miss." The voice comes from right behind her, and Rose jumps.
She turns around sees it's the man with the hat and scarf, standing so close that when she turns her shoulder brushes the breast of the camel hair coat. He smells like aftershave and...that feeling of familiarity again as she struggles to place it-grease, hot metal, the ozone of burning electronics and something under it all that brings an image of rain drops falling onto dusty ground.
"Sorry. Do you work here?"
"No." Rose shakes her head.
"Ah, but you've been here for awhile, yes? Say, half an hour?"
Rose nods, confused. "I guess so, yeah. Why?"
"Are you stoned?" He asks.
"What?" Rose says, surprised.
"Are you stoned? Blown away, boozed up, charged up, coked, crocked, hopped up, junked up, ripped, smashed, snowed, strung out, wigged out, or narcotized?" He recites this list in a good humored lilt.
Rose shakes her head again, feeling a smile pull across her face. She isn't, but he very well appears to be.
"Ah, good. Would you be so kind as to come with me? Just for a moment. Little experiment."
He offers her his arm.
Rose hesitates. She's been with The Doctor long enough not to trust appearances. Then the man smiles and the room gets brighter, it's not just a smile, it's The Smile, the expression that can only manifest elsewhere in a pale echo. She finds her arm snaking around his. He puts his fingers over her own, his hands is very warm, then flashes a wink at her.
"How good is your memory?" He asks a moment later as they stand on the street.
"Not to bad." Rose shrugs.
"Excellent. Then perhaps we can get one good memory between us." The smile and wink again. "Lets watch the cars, shall we?"
The light changes from red to green, and a line of vehicles passes by. A bus, two small cars, a beat-up truck with a flower painted on the side, a long-haired man riding a bicycle.
"Alright. Remember them." The man says, thrusting his hands into his pockets and waiting as the intersection cycles again, then "Ready?"
The light turns green. A bus, two small cars, a beat up truck with a flower painted on the side...
"They're the same." Rose says.
"Oh good. Well, not good. But also not me. Certainly not me." He nods.
"But how-" Rose feels the air change behind her and turns again, the man has vanished.
She stands there for several minutes, lost in speculation.
"What are we looking at?" A near whisper almost in her ear, Rose jumps again, this time bumping up against The Doctor, who puts an arm around her waist. "Easy."
"Nothing." Rose shakes her head.
"No? You sure?"
"Yeah." Rose nods, forcing a smile, turning her head so his nose is brushing up against her cheek.
"Alright then." He squeezes her, then releases. "Now what's interesting here is..."
She has turned, ready to walk with him, and for a second she's so close they could slow dance.
Aftershave, grease, hot metal, ozone...
and the smell of rain falling onto the dusty ground.