The Doctor had a bit of a smile on his face as he watched the antics of the others in the room who were clustered around the punch bowl which Captain Yates had so thoughtfully spiked. Having not partaken of the punch, he was sober enough to actually enjoy the party which was briefly taking his mind off of his exile. Several of his UNIT comrades had invited him to drink, but he'd refused. When he wasn't very lightly dipping into someone's wine cellar, he tended to be a rather sarcastic drunk this time around, and he didn't think anyone would appreciate finding themselves on the wrong side of his razor-sharp tongue, especially at this time of year.
As he watched the Brigadier try to balance a cup on his nose, Sergeant Benton tapped him on the shoulder and informed him that he had a phone call. After following the young man down the hall away from the noise and the merriment that wasn't usually associated with the military, he picked up the phone which was resting on the desk.
"Hello?" he said, knowing that the person on the other end hadn't hung up since he could hear him breathing.
"Merry Chrishmash losher! Ya pull that shtick outta yer ash yet? Oh, wait, you hafta die before you do that..." the person on the other end whose voice he barely recognized slurred drunkenly before giving a harsh laugh and hanging up with a sharp click leaving the dial tone ringing in his ear as he tried to process what happened.
"Something wrong sir?" Benton asked, looking concerned.
"Aside from the fact that I've apparently just drunk dialed myself, no. Everything's fine." he replied.
And, with that, he returned to the party and everything was fine despite the fact that Captain Yates had apparently had too much of the punch he'd spiked and somehow managed to fall out of a window which should've been closed. The miserable Christmas that had caused him to call and insult himself because he had nothing better to do was in the distant future, and right now there was the now in which there was laughter, and joy, and things the Brigadier would be regretting once the photos were developed.
And, best of all, though he seemed to be hanging at the edges as nothing more than an observer, he was a part of it.