Excess
The market is as crowded as Oxford Street before Christmas, and Donna Noble is in her element. She stops and surveys all sorts of items, and she's amused as she hears her fellow shoppers haggling with the various vendors. It doesn't matter the language; the universe isn't quite that different after all.
But then she passes a sweater with three arms, and she's quickly reminded that she's not in Kansas anymore.
Next to her, the Doctor stops to look at some sort of shiny techno thing. She grins. "New toy? What's it do?"
"It stores food," the Doctor answers, his eyes dancing with that Spaceman twinkle that she finds so amusing. But he replaces the item as the salesman approaches; he's more interested in the exploration than any type of purchase.
They continue their slow surveillance not really paying too much attention.
"Lotion for non-reptilian skin!"
The voice is upon them before Donna can pull away, and soon, a humanoid-looking woman is at their side, her bright blue eyes wide and friendly. She holds up a bottle of white cream. "Want a sample?"
They pause, both considering. Perhaps it's the woman's expression, or maybe Donna has done enough scouting and is ready to try something. They look at one another, and the Doctor grins, turning back. "What's the difference between cream for reptilian skin and non-reptilian skin?"
The woman holds up another bottle, this one filled with near-black goo that has chunks of….something actually moving around.
"What!?" Donna exclaims and then picks up her own bottle of white cream. "Is this scented? I can't stand that fake peach smell. Gives me a headache."
"Nothing fake about this," the saleswoman says and opens up her jar. "It's all natural, made with the milk of goats fed only the finest grasses on the seventh moon of Gerron."
"If you say so, mate," Donna mutters and sticks out her hand. "Let me try some."
The woman obliges, squeezing a fair amount onto Donna's hand. The Doctor glances down; there appears to be quite a bit. He watches as Donna, without thinking, starts to quickly rub her hands together.
"No!" The saleswoman says, reaching up. "Slowly, to allow the enzymes time to dissolve into your skin."
Donna freezes. "Enzymes!? Are little alien eggs gonna hatch inside my skin!?"
"Donna," the Doctor mutters. "It's just hand lotion."
Heeding the saleswoman's advice, Donna's motions are slower. To her surprise, she realizes that her skin does seem to be reacting to whatever is in the lotion. A sort of funny tingling runs over her skin, and she could have sworn she actually sees something sparkle amidst her freckles. She looks up and sees the Doctor also staring down at her hands. He is focused, but not in the normal "Doctor-y" kind of way. His eyes are soft and there's a slight smile on his face.
Then he looks up and catches her watching him. His eyes widen, and Donna cannot think of something to call him out.
"Oh, I think I did give you too much."
The saleswoman's voice comes out of nowhere.
Donna's hands do feel a bit slippery. Instinctively, she reaches out for the Doctor. "Here," she says and runs the extra lotion onto his skin. His hands are warm, and the skin is rough. Most likely because of all the tinkering he does with the TARDIS. Donna realizes that it's the first time she's taken his hand where the situation isn't dire, and they're not running for their lives.
She's curious if the sparkling thing was just her imagination, so she stares intently at his hands, watching for any signs of glitter. Sure enough, there does seem to be a little glow that envelopes their hands, and she gasps.
"Did you see that!?" she asks and looks up.
The Doctor blinks. "What?" He has that funny expression on his face again.
"The glowing! Our hands sparkled!" Donna exclaims.
"That would be the enzymes," the saleswoman jumps in.
"Hand lotion that makes your skin shine? Literally!" Donna says and grins.
Whatever was going on with the Doctor is over now; he grins and smacks his hands together. "Brilliant! Fascinating! How much?"
The woman grins. "ten credits."
Donna doesn't even know where they are, let along if ten credits is too much. But she's about to start negotiating; she loves a good haggle. But the Doctor is already displaying whatever works as a credit card, and thanking the saleswoman for the pitch. Gently, he takes Donna's forearm and guides her to the next booth.
"Alien hand lotion!" Donna muses, grinning. "Now this is my speed." She looks at the Doctor, who is smiling. That wide-eyed and goofy grin that she loves so much.
"No planet of the hats, but still fun?"
"She wraps her arms through his. "Onward, Spaceboy!"