There was something different about this one, the Doctor realized. Something in the way she stood danger and innocence, something in her eyes pain and knowledge and burning that said she was not like the rest of the human race. A wolf, if you will, in sheep's clothing.
"You're the Doctor." She said. Not a question but a confirmation of fact.
"And you work for Torchwood."
"I run Torchwood."
He couldn't deny that he was impressed. The girl was barely into her twenties yet she was running the most powerful (albeit secret) organization on the entire planet, and doing a bang up job of it, from what he had heard. Sources said she had all but single-handedly saved the human race from annihilation on numerous occasions, without resorting to the usual human method of shooting first and asking questions later.
"You're apparently quite odd, for a human." He said out loud.
She gave him a half smile grief longing, replying, "Well, I've seen a bit more than most humans."
And for some reason the Doctor swore he heard an echo of the TARDIS' song loss and longing and fear and hope in his head, but it was coming from this strange girl.
"Who are you?" he blurted out, all the subtlety of a bulldozer through a stained glass window. Somehow she had touched time, actually touched time, and he wanted to know how.
The girl gave him a full smile this time sadness and light and familiarity, almost as if she knew what he was thinking.
"I'm Rose Tyler, and I used to know you."