The Doctor strolls into the console room, mug in one hand. The tea in it's steeping, the little ball of herbs spreading out into a full red faux chrysanthemum, complete with yellow center and green leaves at its base. It smells like flowers, too, and honey, warm and dark and far-away enough to be tantalizing instead of cloying.

"D'you remember the Emperor? He told me, us, me, well, you could set your clock by how long it takes this tea to bloom, there's an equation, compensates for differences in water temperature..."

He takes a sip of the tea as he properly takes in the view through the doors. Hm. That would explain why his TARDIS feels amused.

"Well. Full marks for precision, but I'll have to dock you on orientation..." Which isn't meant any more harshly than was his other's comment about the Keppler arc. In fact, the Doctor is smiling as he takes another sip of his tea. Nice to see he's not the only one who has trouble with parking.