The man dithered for a few precious seconds. Then he stepped towards her, and now he was staring straight into her eyes, grasping her hand and pressing it first to the left side of his chest, then to the right. 'Yes, I'm not human, and yes, that was a vampire, and yes, you really have wandered into an ancient feud between my people and theirs, and now you can either stay here and tell people stories they'll never believe, or come with us and help us stop her from killing people. Excuse me.'
And she could feel an impossible double pulse through her fingertips, and a tingling chilliness to his skin, and she had no idea any more what other questions there were to ask.
He felt the tiny movement across the moist surface of his eye. For the first time in a year and a half, he felt it.
It had been there all along, watching through his eye, seeing everything he did, knowing just where he was, reporting back, reporting everything.
'I still don't believe you're a spaceman,' she said.
'Carotid pulse,' he said idly.
She knelt down next to the beanbag. 'Go on,' he said. She reached out and pressed her fingers against his throat, gently.
[...] She felt her own eyes go wide as she felt the four-four time of his pulse under her fingertips. There was no way he could fake that.
The eighth doctor having a normal relationship with his own body compilation
