The era of the 10th Doctor; January, France
The Day after the Adipose Industries Investigation

~15.6 Hours Ago~

Crowds of humans push past each other, edging their way to where they need to be.
And here, everyone is important.
They might have families.
Or they might be carers, or have a partner, or currently work in a business that would crumble if they had a single day off, or they could be in control of a secret organisation planning to save (or destroy) the world.
Or...they could have no-one and nothing at all.
But personal lives are not labelled on people's foreheads, no. Everyone looks normal, unidividual and utterly unimportant.
And someone in particular is trying to seem that way.
As they have been for centuries.

A woman with wavy crimson hair that reaches her elbows parts from the unimportant people, and notices a sapphire-tinted light. She decides to follow it down an alleyway that seems to fade ito night; even though it is early morning.
But still, she carries on walking until all is darkness.
Suddenly a neon glow blinds her, and she raises her arms to shield herself from the blaze. But as she lowers her hands back down, the light dims ever so slightly.
Her face turns a mix of expressions; fascination, surprise, then horror.
"Leave it!" She yells, then nothing else is heard apart from her screams.

~Same Place, Present Time, Present Day~

People are swarming the marketplaces of Paris. Everywhere is practically covered with tourists, except for a single blue police box.

The Doctor and Donna are on their first adventure.
Well-third adventure technically. But their first journey.
"Paris!" The Doctor exclaims triumphantly; leaping from the TARDIS. "Present day."
He sighs, taking in the sights with his nose.

"Present day?" Donna repeats in a confused and disgusted tone. "I thought you had a time machine!"

"Yes, well...I wanted to ease you off slowly."

"Ease me off slowly?! Excuse me spaceman, but I just helped you defeat an alien-spider-lobster thing, saved your life, and said goodbye to a bunch of squeaking lumps of fat!"

The Doctor gives her a look and scratches the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Sorry." Donna sighs.

"None taken!" He claps his hands together and turns back to the TARDIS. "We could always go somewhere else, like you said...time machine!" He grins widely.

"No! No! I've always wanted to go to Paris..." Donna smiles.

"Good! So have I. Come on!" He calls, rushing off ahead, through the busy streets. Donna stares longingly at a clothes window. The Doctor backs up and leans over to her. "...Wanna go shopping?" The Doctor asks.

"Erm, well...I didn't bring any money." Donna shrugs sadly.

"All those suitcases and bags and you didn't bring any money?" The Doctor asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Well..." He pulls out his sonic screwdriver and waggles it in front of her face. "I've got a sonic."

The Doctor grins, pointing the glowing and buzzing screwdriver at a hole-in-the-wall. It beeps, and shoots out six hundred Euros.
"Isn't that illegal?" Donna questions.

"Erm. Only if we get caught...?" The Doctor replies, anxiously taking the money and sliding it into his pocket with his sonic.

Donna's jaw drops. "You're such a deviant, you know that?" She chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief.

"That's me-The Deviant Doctor! Now, let's go shopping."

They race into the nearest clothes shop full of dresses, and tops, and trousers, jeans, skirts, shoes and colours of all kinds. "Oh!" Donna gasps frustratedly, stopping. "I always skived off French class."

"Well, that's another benefit from travelling by TARDIS." The Doctor grins. "She translates every language. As long as it isn't a billion-trillion-trillion years old. So present-dat French should be fine!"

"Ha! That's brilliant!" Donna laughs, hugging the Doctor tightly, then rushing to scour the shops.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Allons-y!" The Doctor calls, stepping from the final store, carrying five or six paper or canvas bags.

Donna follows a few seconds later, her forearms unable to be seen for all the bag straps. "That was so fun! Oh my god, my mum would flip if she found out I've been shopping in Paris!"
A glint of something, a small, red blur catches her eye. Donna faces a purple draped stall, with stars and dream-catchers dangling from the top. Right in the middle is a sign that says 'Fortune Telling'.

"Fortune Telling!" She gasps. "Doctor, do you have any money left?!"

"Oh, you don't wanna waste my money of those. It's normally just gobbledy-gook."

"It's just a bit of fun!" She protests.
A woman steps out of the tent and faces them both, keeping her eyes fixed on the Doctor. "Come in." She says, and Donna raises and eyebrow at him.

They sit down and Donna throws her bags on the floor, then places her palm on the table. "Not you." The fortune-teller says. "Him. No charge."

"Sorry-me? Why?" The Doctor inquires.

"It is important. Your mind matches another.
Another close by.
You are one of red shoes,
She is one of red hair; just like a July's gem that will fade into a light sunset. A familiar sunset of a memorised planet. One that loves the stars as much as she loved, and will love, someone like you."
The Doctor frowns, suddenly very serious, and blinks in concentration.
"You must beware of the skeletons, however. They bring much sadness upon the tower that is already building inside you.
You will find her. But you will also lose her. For it is destiny."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Beware the skeletons! You're right-What a load of rubbish!" Donna rolls her eyes, and nearly drops her shopping from waving her arms about so much.

Except The Doctor isn't listening.
He slowly steps towards an abandoned store-front, as if a hundred whispering voices are singing his name, bringing him forward. He can't seem to break his attention from the steel barrier. Something, or someone, is intriguing him to go inside.
Maybe the fortune-telling made him go loopy...as if he wasn't already.

"Oi! Spaceman! Are you deaf?!" Donna yells.

"Oh! Yes. No...What?"

"I said I was gonna drop my shopping off at the TARDIS."

He grins. "There's a good girl." The Doctor replies, piling her with bags and handing her the blue box key.

"Who do you think I-"

"Cheers, Donna! Really appreciate it."
He stares off at the shutter. "There's just something I need to do..."
The Doctor doesn't take his eyes off the store-front.
Donna rolls her eyes and tuts, strutting away.
"I'll be back in a mo!"

"Alright!"

But something seemed off about this whole situation.