Amy shivered as she walked one of the many hallways of the TARDIS. The Doctor always kept his time machine just slightly too cold for her liking, and now, at the end of the day, with the Doctor in the library somewhere reading and no one else for company, it felt colder than ever.
She made her way to her room only to discover that the clothes she'd let build into a pile on the floor had disappeared.
Frowning, she made her way to the library, still shivering slightly.
"Where are my clothes?" she asked, approaching the Doctor with hands on her hips.
"I don't know, where are they?" he replied, not looking up from his book.
"Not in my room," she said shortly.
"Well you must be wearing them then," he concluded.
She looked down at her shirt and shorts.
"Doctor, I am definitely not wearing all the clothes I brought."
"If I recall," he said, still not looking up, "you didn't bring any clothes to the TARDIS except for your nightgown, which hardly counts at all."
She shot him a glare, though he took no notice.
"Fine then," she said tersely. "The wardrobe's clothes. Where are the clothes I got from the wardrobe?"
"In the wardrobe."
She spun around to the library doors and muttered about why he couldn't have told her that in the first place.
"And turn up the heating, would you?" she shouted over her shoulder as she left.
She trailed a finger lazily through the endless racks of clothes.
The clothes she'd collected from the wardrobe originally when she first stepped onto the TARDIS were lying in a pile on the floor of the wardrobe room.
It wasn't correct to call it a room, she thought, it was more of a wardrobe area, so large and expansive you couldn't see the walls on either side.
The clothes racks had no particular order at all, it seemed, judging by the fact that she found outlandish alien garments hanging alongside the most ordinary of t-shirts, which made it very hard for her to locate any thick woollen jumpers or a scarf to keep the cold out.
She was about to give up as she walked past seemingly endless rows of battered Converses in cream, black, and burgundy colours respectively and then a battered leather jacket hanging all on its own, when she came across the scarf.
She removed it from a coat hanger and slung it around her neck, picking up a tasselled end and running it through her fingers. She let the end drop to the floor and it brushed the ground as she walked.
She collected the rest of the clothes in their pile and dumped them back in her room before returning to the library.
"I found all my clothes," she said as she approached the Doctor still sitting in the same chair.
"Good, good," he replied distractedly, nose in some other book now.
"You haven't turned the heating up have you?" she asked, observing how his feet were resting in the exact same position as they had been before.
"Well…no," he admitted to his book, not looking terribly sorry about it. "But you see Amy, the reason being is that Piooux wrote this extremely interesting equation involving the mass of black holes relative to their gravity field," he looked up, about to launch into some rant about it, but then stopped.
He frowned at her, placing his book atop the pile of novels in his lap.
"Is that my scarf?"