The man stood, a half smile plastered across his face, staring into Gene's eyes, his eyes laughing. Gene shuffled uncomfortably, raising his eyebrows, "What?"

The man replied after a while longer of studying Gene's face. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

Gene's brow was furrowed, a look of confusion and impatience on his face.

The redheaded woman spoke for the first time, Gene's eyes snapping onto her, quickly studying her figure, along with a very short skirt. "Doctor, why are we here, actually?"

She was, regrettably, Scottish, Gene noted. His perceptions of Scottish birds weren't so high, since the trouble he'd had with that tart Jackie Queen.

He looked back at the Doctor, who laughed, then began prancing about, waving a glowing green object through the air. "Come on, Amy, think." He used large hand gestures as he spoke. "We're here, in the 80's, I'm sonicking, it's quiet, the streets are empty…there's a large man alone outside the pub…But! What's wrong with this picture?"

Amy stared at the Doctor as if he'd just breathed fire from his nose. "Well…it's quiet…?" she replied unsure.

The Doctor looked at her. Suddenly she felt stupid, and tried to verify her answer, "Too quiet…never good."

There was an awkward silence amongst them, then the Doctor burst back into animation, pointing at her, "Exactly! Now, it's the evening, a busy pub, lights on, filled with smoke…why is it so quiet?"

The Doctor crept cautiously towards the doorway of the large wooden pub, sonic screwdriver at the ready. He held out his hand to reach for the door, the hairs on the back of it standing up slowly as it grew closer. His palm touched the panel of the door and a small spark connected with his hand, causing him to draw it back in pain. He exclaimed, massaging his throbbing fingers. "Looks like someone doesn't want me in their pub." His eyes flicked over to Gene.

His face was downturned, his eyes glancing over the whole doorway, trying to work out what the bloody 'ell just happened. It had never happened to anyone before, so why did it just now.

"Can I use your hand for a moment?" The Doctor took hold of Gene's wrist before he could reply, and placed it on the door. Gene retorted, then grew silent in surprise that he was not electrocuted like the Doctor.

"Hmm…" a smile crept across the Doctor's angular face "I think we need to pay the landlord a visit."

"Wait!" Gene cried a panic rising in him. The Doctor and Amy's glances turned to him quickly, whilst Gene stood feeling stupid as he quickly thought of an excuse for them to not enter the pub. Even if he did tell the truth they would never understand. Nobody ever did. "Look, they're probably too busy. You won't get a word in edgeways. Let's not bother them now." He tried to defer the Doctor finding out the truth, which he begrudgingly knew was inevitable, and dreaded it. His tone was heavy, despite his attempts to cover it with a lack of eye contact and a clear of the throat, "It'll probably be less empty tomorrow. There's no match on."

By then he planned to be unreachable. Gene could feel the oncoming sense of guilt, and he was determined to do whatever he could to separate himself from it. That was why he led the seedy lifestyle he did of violence and drink. It was to forget. He strayed away from his feelings so he didn't have to suffer because of what he knew was the truth.

It would be easier to avoid having to deal with the fallout as the Doctor found out the truth of what Gene really did for a living.