The Metacrisis Doctor was feeling much better, and now also feeling rather peckish, so he exchanged his jim jams for his suit, minus coat and footwear--it was his TARDIS, and he'd been unwell, and he could run about barefoot if he wanted to--and headed for the kitchen. He'd intended to make a bit of toast and marmalade. Instead, he found himself freezing momentarily just inside the kitchen door. There was poor Lucie, crying, and for an instant, he didn't know what to do.
The instant passed, however, and common sense and compassion pushed him into action. He crossed the room and crouched down in front of her, reaching one hand out to touch her shoulder. "Lucie. What is it? What's wrong?"