The Doctor was almost too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice that Mickey had left -- but the distinct lack of irritable muttering in the background was a wonderful relief.

He gave Rose an appreciative grin and he loped easily along beside her in the cool dark, hands clasped behind his back, glad for her company and her curiosity. He decided he liked this girl, whose first instinct upon finding a strange man in a box in her bedroom was to invite him to tea. She didn't jump to judgments, and that was a rare and funny thing.

"Nothing?" At her question he tipped his head with a closed smile and a crinkled brow, and he laughed. "Rose Tyler, [i]nothing[/i] is nothing!" He hopped forward and spun around, walking backward then sideways while his arms encompassed the sky and the trees and the fences and potholes. "[i]Everything[/i] is [/i]something[/i]. The tiniest atom on the smallest speck of existence," he hunched his shoulders and pinched the air, "once gave birth to a universe. Every thought in your head," he tapped his temple, "has infinite potential to change the course of time and history. So recycle bins that move on their own? No, I don't think that's nothing at all!" He winked and strolled ahead, eager to see these mysterious bins, even while he smiled to himself at the look on Rose's face.

"That must be them!" He rushed across the street, and he circled the culprit bins with a satisfied grin, as if he expected them to apologize for their misbehavior. When they obstinately did nothing of the sort, the Doctor reached inside his coat, flipped the sonic screwdriver in the air, and pointed it with gusto at the guilty party.

[i]Whirrrrrrrrrrrrr[/i]

He circled round the bins like a tiger stalks its prey, poked the screwdriver at the sides and wheels and lids, peering intently at the readouts above his thumb. His victorious grin was fading with each second of silence. He yanked a lid open and pointed the little light down into the pile cans and bottles, then peered close at the readouts, his brow furrowed. He dropped the lid with a disappointed snap.

"Well," he sighed, spinning around to face Rose again, hands in his pockets, "maybe they are nothin' after all. But best we keep an eye on them, [i]just[/i] in case. Cafe's the perfect spot! How 'bout those sandwiches, yeah?" He gestured hopefully toward the cafe. "I'd love a cup of tea."

Just around the corner, a couple of trash bins scuttled quietly into the alley.