"An empty space," thought the woman, "I must find an empty space..."

She pelted as fast as her high heels would carry her down an alley, looking around her for an appropriate venue: still running, mind racing.

At the bottom of the alley, not really paying attention to her surroundings, she saw a possible target worth investigation. A blue pair of doors, with the right hand door ajar. She ran straight through the doorway, and was in a huge space, suitable for what she needed.

Still without really stopping to take in her surroundings, the lady clad in a Yeoman's uniform stretched out her arms, and started to spin, her uniform starting to blur and shimmer slightly. She kept spinning, and her uniform was suddenly draped over her arm, and a altogether smaller, but more patriotic outfit was in use... a red bustier, with star spangled hot pants, red boots with a white stripe, and a gold belt, leading to an embroidered gold coloured eagle, spreading its wings majestically across her chest.

The woman stopped spinning, and checked her belt, and a tiara that hadn't been there a moment ago, were in place, before striding purposefully over to some sort of table with a glass column on it. She put her naval uniform neatly on top of the glass column, and made a mental note to come back for the clothes later...

The figure emerged from the pair of doors, looking suspiciously around her, before racing off down the alley, back the way she had come. She stopped suddenly, and turned to look behind her.

"POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX"

Well, the box was obviously the entrance to a building at the back of it; a Police station probably, if the sign above the doors was to be believed. Not giving it another thought, she ran towards the main street, to face off with a bank robber and his cohorts.

"So whose clothes are they, Professor?" asked Ace, from halfway down one of the TARDIS corridors.

"Erm..." The Doctor looked at the neatly folded naval uniform, now going up and down with the time rotor of the TARDIS. He reached out, and tried to carefully remove the jacket, but the whole pile of clothes slid off the rotor, landing in a heap across the console, and onto the floor. He frowned, tutting to himself quietly. He looked inside the jacket collar, at the neat, rectangular name label sewn into the garment.

"Prince, Ace. Diana Prince."