[And in the very last second, the other Doctor steps back from the edge, from the gulf that is his past, his burden. A grin, a short, abrupt hug, deflection. It's kind of a relief; the Doctor's still feeling somewhat rattled himself, and if the other Doctor's choosing to deflect, so can he.]

[He still uses that quick hug to briefly tighten his arms around the other Doctor and communicate that yeah, it's what they do, and if they're together, there's little to nothing they can't do. They're brilliant, after all.]

[At the other Doctor's observation, he looks down at himself. Oh, yes, he is. That's a little absurd, and it makes him laugh.]

I'd better find myself something to wear, then. And shoes, [toe-wriggle], I think we should both find shoes. It might be me, but it feels a little like your TARDIS is chillier than mine.

[Or maybe it's the array of guns he's still standing in the middle of. Better not to deal with this right now; the way he's feeling, he's quite sure it would be the perfect way to shatter the fragile bond of trust he's managed to form with this other him. He puts a jovial hand on the other Doctor's back and leads them out of the armory, a little too casually flicking the switch that will close and lock the door behind them.]

Okay, where was I? Wardrobe, that's it.