The Doctor was indeed quite open to whatever Leela had to say. After the TARDIS and his other self had spoken with him regarding their concerns, and after his own exchange with Romana about the no longer mysterious individual she had feelings for, feeling she was afraid he would greet with disapproval, he was anxious for Leela's perspective. He felt terribly wrong-footed in all of this, his own emotions confused after the whole affair with the Master and the Time Lords several months before, and the efforts Koschei had made to save his life when he'd been poisoned in the other universe. It had been years since the Doctor had been faced with problems like these, with all of the entanglements of the past spilling into the present, and absolutely nowhere and nowhen to run to.
Worry distracted the Doctor as he rummaged through the cabinets in the kitchen, seeking the makings for tea. He found himself making foolish mistakes: overfilling the kettle with water, taking down only one cup instead of two, retrieving a banana instead of a box of tea. He scolded himself under his breath for his distraction, but still lost track of time until the whistle of the kettle startled him out or his dour thoughts. He forgot grab a cloth to protect his hands from the heat, and soon found himself jerking his hand back and hissing through his teeth at the sting of newly burned skin.
"This is ridiculous," he scolded himself. "I'm a grown Time Lord. I can make tea without setting the kitchen on fire."