"Anyone-" The Doctor clarifies, looking teasingly affronted at the mundanity of it. "-can buy shoes."

"Well," He drags out out to the word with the shoulder bump. "The hair is new. Terribly new. But nice. I like it. Do you like it?" But it's not entirely a question. Because he keeps going. Even if maybe he doesn't not want to answer. He's been futzing with it. There is ever so much of it, you see. "And the teeth." His arms go out. "Blimey. The teeth were the shock in the change this time. Thirty two, all pearly white, but it's been a while, you see, since the last time."

"Definitely weird. Something always is, even this many times in." It's a new body after all. He could have been green. He'd so like to be green. Or blue. And ginger. He's always wanted to be ginger. But no luck this time. It's just brown-ish. Again. "It's like a present. The paper might be awfully shiny--" The Doctor beams at her, arrogant about complimenting his own looks, tossing an arm around her shoulder, on impulse. "--but on the inside. Yes. It's still me."

Beat. "I'm still me." He raising his other hand and waves at waggles his fingers in the air at her. A small wave. "Hello."

Because he's still him, and for just a few minutes or days longer, he's allowed to see Lucie's own shining face.