The Doctor stepped away from the TARDIS. A young black woman stood nearby...and she had said his name. He was puzzled.
"Sorry," He said curiously. "Have we met? I mean, I don't exactly remember you. Well, curse of the timelord I suppose. Things don't always happen to me in the same order. Well, often times they don't anyway." He scratched the side of his head as he stepped toward her. "You called me Doctor, so I'm assuming that from your perspective we have met already. I haven't from mine apparently." He looked her up and down for a moment. "So, no offense intended, really none. I must meet you in the future. Well, my future anyway...your past. So who are you then?"