The first thing she does is find a pair of scissors and chop off her hair. Not all of it, but it was too – much and she needs less and this isn't going to work unless something stays the same.
So hair is her choice.
Well, that says something about her, although what, she isn't quite sure yet. She's still very new, and everything's changed.
Again.
Everything's changed again, but usually everything doesn't mean this much. And the fact that that sentence makes sense to her admittedly befuddled brain says a lot about her life.
Lives.
Life.
Whatever.
The second thing she does is find a mirror. She wants to know what happened, if she physically is female or just mentally, but it's more than that – she wants to see what female looks like when it's on her and not on someone else.
He never looked at a mirror first thing, but most of the time he'd been under pressure – no, she wants to be precise. Nine of the previous ten times, he hadn't looked in a mirror right after. The other time, the third time, it had mostly been accidental – there was a mirror there, he saw it, he got distracted.
Distractibility – it seemed to be a common theme.
Also sesquipedality.
But now she wants a mirror, so she finds one and stares at it.
Yup.
Female body and mind.
That's new.
Over twelve hundred years of travelling time and space and she's never been – wait.
Pronouns.
Well, it's always been difficult, referring to all of him together, talking about more than one regeneration – she's never known whether to use he or they. And now it's just a question of he or she or they, it's not that much more complicated, comparatively.
She doesn't like her past anyway.
Silly place, her past. Why would she want to remember it?
She can't, not really, but at the moment, that's not important.
The third thing she does is change clothes. Tweed. Ew. Tweed and a bow tie. What had he been thinking? The wardrobe is under the console – well, that'll have to change, anyone could get in right now, she should move it back to its own room. In rapid order, she finds jeans, a pale blue button-down shirt, and a darker blue waistcoat. They'll do, at least for now.
That's when she hits the next problem.
Breasts.
She has them.
She hasn't had them before.
Well, some of her companions had them, so someone had to have left a bra.
Or not.
Not, it turns out, was an option.
Which means, it turns out, talking to her current companion.
The fourth thing she does is introduce herself. "Hello. I'm the Doctor." It sounds odd and briefly wrong and then so very, very right.
It takes a minute – a very confused minute, with a lot of awkward laughter on both sides and babbling on hers – but then they get things sorted out and she has a bra that should fit.
Clothes go on quickly and they fit, more or less, though they're mostly meant for a male, and she's not, at least not anymore, which is an idea so strange she'll have to deal with it later. But with the new clothes on, she feels more – herself, oddly enough. She's new – new new Doctor, she'd said once, and it was still true – and the change of clothes helps settle her. She rolls her sleeves up just above her elbows, leaving the collar undone. The waistcoat is buttoned neatly and she's acquired a pair of light sneakers.
It's more her than anything else is right now, including the hasty haircut and the new face.
She runs a hand through her hair, returning to the mirror, staring bemusedly at herself.
Female. She's never been female before. It's new, in a world she'd thought devoid of new things.
New is exciting, and she's ready to take this challenge on.
New is also scary.
She's afraid, and this body is somewhat better at admitting it than the last.
The fifth thing she does is make a phone call. She's really very bad at admitting weakness in general, but to this person, to this one person in the whole of time and space – well, the whole of time and space given that Gallifrey –
Ooh.
Angst.
Lovely.
So she finds a phone on the console that she's 82.9% certain wasn't there before he burst into golden flames and became a she, and punches in a phone number.
She's the Doctor. She's 1238 years old. She's a Time Lady, the last of her kind. She saves people, stops aggressors, and generally tries to be a force for good. She'll sacrifice herself before she'll let anyone else get hurt and her greatest loyalty is to her TARDIS, who's been with her for longer than most empires.
And sometimes, when the wind's in the right direction and the sky is clear; sometimes, so rarely that she herself cannot remember the last time it happened; sometimes, because it hurts to show weakness, it's dangerous and it leaves her horribly open and vulnerable; sometimes, because everyone is a target; sometimes, she asks for help.
"River? River Song? It's me – it's the Doctor. When are you? Things have changed."
The sixth thing she does is see her wife. She's never been female before, and there's so much she needs to learn that only River can teach her – no, not that – alright, yes, that would probably come up too, knowing River. But how her body worked, and movement and running and how to deal with her chest, because that was a problem now.
She's new, and she's different, and this is scary and strange. But it's not terrifying, and it's not overwhelming, and when the next aggressor shows up, she'll be there to stop them, because that's who she is.
Her gender's changed, but that doesn't mean that she's changed. She's still the Doctor. She'll still save the world and sacrifice everything in the process. That's never going to go away, and at some point she came to terms with that.
She's still who she always has been.
It's just –
She needs to deal with that too, just like her companion does, and just like River already did. She still can't quite remember her companion's name, but post-regeneration amnesia is why, she knows that now, and she also knows that someday it'll come back.
She's the Doctor.
She's a woman.
The two are not as exclusive as she had thought before.
That's okay. She can work with that. She always has. She always will.
Because she's the Doctor.
And that's what she does.
A/N: The order of events was such: Matt Smith announced his departure, mourning began, speculation began, someone suggested a POC to be the Doctor, I suggested a woman, I was disagreed with, I decided to prove my point. Hence this.