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“And… done!” The Doctor’s voice resounded in the TARDIS. “Are you ready yet, Y/N? The queen isn’t going to postpone the party just for our sake!”
“Just a moment!” Came the rushed reply.
The Doctor whisked away a crumb from the sleeve of his flawless jacket. His love for flamboyant clothes was no mystery to anyone who knew him. Normally, it would prove quite problematic for you while dressing for a visit on a foreign planet, but no, not this time – this time your headache would be caused by something else entirely, something that he had no control over whatsoever.
“Uh… Doctor?” You shyly emerged from the dressing room, holding an armful of various clothing articles, hoping that your face looked as exasperated as you felt.
“Is something the matter, Y/N?” The Doctor glanced over at you. Upon seeing your visibly distressed position, he only smiled fondly. “Having trouble picking the outfit? Don’t worry, the Peladonians are quite open-minded when it comes to that. Just wear whatever is comfortable.” He returned to the readings on the TARDIS screen.
“Yes,” you agreed impatiently. “The thing is, none of the clothes seem to fit.”
Hearing this, the Doctor stopped fiddling with levers on the console and finally turned to you. By then it should have become obvious why his wardrobe was impossible to cater to your needs. When you two stood face to face, you couldn’t even catch his gaze without raising your head! Still, the Time Lord remained painfully oblivious to the significant height difference that obstructed your plans to get dressed like a decent person. Or, like a decent Doctor lookalike.
“Well?” He inclined.
“Oh, come on, Doctor.” You rolled your eyes, then shoved him the stack of clothes you were holding. “Can’t you see?” Taking a frilly shirt from the very top, you spread it for him to see. “However you look at it, your size will never fit me, will it?”
“Surely, there’s bound to be something fitting. Besides, is my shirt so big for you? I should think you’d look quite nice.” He flashed you a cheeky smile.
“You know that’s not true. You’re just too tall!”
“Since this is my wardrobe, it’s you who is too short, don’t you agree?”
“Doctor.”
His melodic laughter was almost enough to win you over. Almost. When your face grew pleading, the Doctor discarded the pile of clothes on the nearest chair, only to guide you back to the dressing room.
“Alright, alright. The TARDIS is probably just playing games with you, hiding all the fitting clothes. Let’s search together, shall we?”
Sighing, you started regretting not having borrowed a dress from Jo.