"How interesting!" Norton's first thought is "alien" because working for Torchwood for half a decade primes a person's mind to leap to that hypothesis as a default. He sets his empty glass down on the bar so he can run his hands over the young bloke's arms, partly in curiosity, looking for clues of a possible alien nature, and partly because it's a good excuse to feel up some very fine shoulders and biceps.

"Were they always like that?"