Chapter Text
The girl marched purposely into the police box, her shabby brown handbag swinging over her shoulder, her vintage red dress swishing around her legs and her small but delicate heels made clip clip noises against the uneven slabs of pavement.
"You're late!" She snapped, smiling as she did so.
"A wizard is never late, he arrives exactly when he means to."
"Ha ha! Yeah, right!" She laughed as she hung up her bag on a coat stand and changed her heels for some tatty pumps from underneath.
The room was large with a distinct turquoise glow. In the centre was a large column decorated in bits of junk used as buttons, levers and other such things, yet nobody knew what they did. The room was decorated with silver spirals, ancient writing unknown to most. There were balconies surrounding the metallic room and hard staircases leading up to them.
"Since when did you know Lord of the Rings?" She asked confused.
"Since 20 hours, 15 minutes ago. Oh wait, make that 21." He said checking his watch and furrowing his eyebrows. He stood up from out the shadows and stepped into the light, throwing the hobbit book down. He had dressed up like Gandalf. The girl rolled her eyes dramatically as he unhooked the costume so it fell to the floor, revealing his fitting long plum blazer, grey waistcoat and floppy bow tie. He had a large predominant chin, a big brown fringe above his head and a grim expression. His forehead was wrinkled making him seem like someone twice his age.
The girl laughed. "This is priceless. I told you you'd enjoy it."
"Well of course." He said almost falling down the stairs with his wide steps and hunched back as he came forward and pulling a lever so a deep throaty sound emitted from the console. "So, Clara, where shall we go?"
"So I was teaching the Great Fire of London-"
"1666, here we go."
He pulled down a lever and spun around as Clara giggled, taking a firm grip on the railing of the console.
"Are we sure we can do this? Doctor?"
"As long as we don't meddle!" He smiled positively at her. "Geronimo!"
Clara walked out, dressed in a scarlet dress, hair tied in a bun decorated with pearls.
"How do I look?" She asked brightly, now in clear sunlight. The Doctor looked at her puzzled.
"It's a bit...red." His eyebrows furrowed. He marched off down the narrow and dirty cobbled street, dotted with brown puddles and oozing with a dreadful smell.
"What do you mean, 'it's a bit red'?" Clara called, hobbling over the cobbles and trying to hold her dress above the dirty ground.
"Well, you should have picked green!"
"There wasn't any green!" He stopped and she hurried to his side to look out as they had reached an old grey bridge to gaze out over the city of uneven buildings and the chatter of bubbling streets.
"Welcome to London, Clara, 1666."