Christmas! He hadn't had a proper, non-world-ending Christmas in a good long while. He aimed for London, 1973. Before all the catastrophies started happening around London on Christmas, and a few years before all that mess in Wales with maggots.
He'd left Romana to change into whatever she desired back in the wardrobe room, and he ran off into his own bedroom, washed up, and changed into something festive. A red velvet suit with a black shirt underneath. Not his usual fare, but it looked nice. Well, it looked different.
He was reconsidering the blue suit when he heard one of the doors click shut. He turned back to the console and attempted to look nonchalant.