Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or Doctor Who.
One would think that with the ridiculous amounts of room in the TARDIS, there would be enough food to match that.
Unfortunately, Time Lords don't have to eat, but their companions do.
The Doctor, Amy, and Rory stopped in present day London just to pop by Tesco and pick up some groceries. While the happy couple got to shopping (the Doctor begged Amy to get custard and fish fingers), he wandered around the store.
He had a lot of fun listening in on various conversations as they drifted over the hum of the fluorescent and other various machines. One particular conversation caught his attention.
"I don't understand why you can't just wear a wig, Sherlock. It's not like these gingers are going to assume it's a wig right away," one voice groaned.
"John, if you've been paying attention at all, then you should know that in order to gain access to the Red-Headed League, I need to blend in so that even with the utmost scrutiny, I can pass for a ginger," another replied.
The Doctor swiveled and made a bee-line for the source of the voices. He came to the aisle where the two men were. One was tall and lanky with a mop of black hair; his friend was shorter, but solidly built, with sandy blonde hair. The brunette's eyes were flitting madly all over the place, scanning for the right shade of dye for him. The Doctor busied himself with looking at the boxes too, his glee increasing exponentially. He was so hoping that in this regeneration, he would be ginger. When he pulled his hair in front of his eyes just after regeneration, he was really disappointed.
"Sorry, I couldn't but overhear, but what's this Red-Headed League about?" The Doctor asked.
The blonde turned to him. "Oh, it's this group of rich gingers who evidently get together and...actually, I don't know what they do," he said with a laugh.
"Your friend must really want to get in if he's going to the trouble of dyeing his hair. Why is that?"
He glanced at his friend, but leaned in to the Doctor to say, "Sorry, but I'm not at liberty to say. I don't think he would appreciate if I told you. He already doesn't like how more people read my blog than his. He can be a prat about it sometimes."
"That's understandable. Well, I hope that your friend finds what he's looking for in that club."
He rolled his eyes. "I hope so too."
His friend exclaimed, "Aha!" and grabbed a box of hair dye. "Come on John! We need to do this soon so that we can get in line to apply."
"Erm, it was nice chatting with you. Bye!" John waved and followed his friend out of the aisle.
After perusing the various shades of red, he settled on a shade of burgundy. He found Amy and Rory in the produce section, debating on which apple to get. He threw the box into the cart, hoping that neither of them would notice. This didn't go past Rory though. He plucked it out and raised an eyebrow.
"You want to be a ginger?" He asked, confused.
"Rory, you have no idea how badly I want to be ginger," The Doctor replied.
Rory raised both of his hands in defense and said, "Alright, alright, whatever floats your boat."
Amy snatched it from his hands and snickered. "Doctor, this shade definitely doesn't work for you." She dragged him by the wrist back to the aisle and talked him through picking the perfect shade, making him feel a little bit silly, but grateful that his friend knew what was best for him.
After paying for their groceries, they went back into the TARDIS, heading for the Boeshane Peninsula. The Doctor had heard that Jack had taken time off of Torchwood to go back and visit his family. He figured he might as well pop by and say hello.
The trio went into the bathroom to start the dye job: Amy was going to help while Rory leaned against the doorframe to watch this all unfold. She made the Doctor sit on the lip of the bathtub with his head tilted back, washed his hair, and added the bleach. While the bleach was working, she put away the groceries while Rory and the Doctor discussed what the result would be if they flew into a black hole. They came to the conclusion that instead of being spaghetti-fied, they would come out perfectly alright, but in an alternate universe.
She returned a little while later, rinsed out his hair, and added the hair dye. After 30 minutes, she rinsed out his hair, fluffed it with a towel, and spun him around to look in the mirror. If she had a camera, she would have snapped it right at that moment, because his face was too adorable for words.
The Doctor was ecstatic with the new shade of red that his hair was. It wasn't too garish, but it wasn't dull either. He hugged Amy and bounced out of the bathroom to the console to check their destination.
It was almost comical how many times that the Doctor stopped in a mirror to check out his new hair, but Amy didn't stop him because she knew how badly he wanted to be ginger. She wasn't going to get in his way of taking away his little moment in the sunshine.