The Doctor sits awkwardly in the smoky bar, nervously smoothing his customary green frock coat.
Someone's staring at him.
This, in itself, is not unusual, he tends to attract attention wherever he goes, but there's something quite singular about how the dark green eight-foot lizard watches him fixedly.
It's positively unnerving.
The Doctor resolves to ignore him.
After all he has better things to worry about.
Such as where Fitz is, and the statistical probability of the necessity of rescuing him within the next few hours.
In fact, the Doctor concludes as the lizard rises and strides determinedly over to him, it might be a good idea to go rescue him right now.
Whether he wants rescuing or not.
Hastily he gets to his feet, promptly spilling his untouched drink on the barman. Apologising profusely, he backs away, only to bump into someone.
Someone large and scaly.
He turns and swallows at the glint in the lizard's beady eyes.
"Erm, terribly sorry. Would you excuse me?"
The lizard's mouth stretches and the Doctor can't help but find this unreassuring.
He slowly moves backwards only to jump as the creature clasps his elbow with a clawed hand.
"Erm, not to be rude, but I rather need to leave. I'm with a friend, you see, and I rather need to go look for him, he gets into the most terrible trouble, so if you wouldn't mind terribly?"
The Doctor babbles.
The lizard bends forward, entering his personal space.
And speaks.
With a strong East End cockney accent.
"Mate, I've really gotta ask, is tha' real velvet? Only I've been wantin' some for the missus and I can't fin' any 'bout the place. Could ya give us some pointers?"