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The TARDIS doors whirred closed. The Doctor slid a control down, and the Time Rotor rose and fell, the engines wheezing. Ben and Polly were stood near the doors, still nervous around the new Doctor.
“I don’t bite.” He slyly invited. He rounded the console and slid some levers around, before pressing a button. The console burbled as it logged the inserted date. “Regeneration into Second Incarnation.
“What did you do?” Polly questioned, stepping closer.
“I simply logged the current time of the TARDIS.” The Doctor grinned. “After all, I do need to keep track of how old I am.”
“So, you wrote your birthday down?” Ben asked.
“Sort of. This incarnation’s birthday, in any case.” The Doctor explained, sheepishly. “My actual birthday isn’t for a long while.”
“You mean today’s your birthday?” Polly gasped.
“Well, it probably won’t be for too long. We did spend rather a lot of time on Vulcan.” The Doctor admitted, smiling. “I should let you both put yours in. Wouldn’t want to drop you back where you started ten years too late!” He chuckled. Polly had a somewhat devious idea. As Ben walked over, Polly whispered to him.
“I’ll go first. After I put mine in, buy me as much time as you can.” Polly hissed.
“What?” Ben wondered. Then, he raised an eyebrow. “What’ve you got planned, Duchess?”
“Shush.” Polly whispered, standing at the levers.
“And there’s little numbers on the side. Simply put the levers on your date of birth, and then push that button over there.” The Doctor explained, pointing at an orange button. A plaque beneath it read ‘log date’ “And then, say your name and what you want to log it as.” Polly did as he’d asked, and spoke clearly.
“Birthday, Polly Wright.” The console burbled, and Polly stepped aside, winking at Ben as she quietly slinked away into the corridor.
“Okay, Ben. Now, it’s your turn.” He smiled, putting his hands together. Ben paused for a few moments, trying to work out how to delay the fairly simple system.
“Which calendar is it?” Ben questioned. The Doctor’s face went from a pleased grin to a confused scowl. “I mean, is it English or American?” He added. The Doctor’s face changed again, this time his mouth slightly open in contemplation. “Or is it a Martian calendar?”
“You know, I’m not entirely sure.” The Doctor admitted.
Meanwhile, Polly had made her way to the Food Machine. The previous Doctor had given them a slight tour of the insides, and had pointed out the Food Machine.
“It is voice activated.” He had said. “Simply say what you want, and it will produce it for you.” He added, with a grin. Polly couldn’t quite remember how long ago it had been, but it stuck in her mind. She found it, and said what she wanted.
“Birthday cake.” She simply stated. There was a quick thunk, and Polly opened a hatch near the bottom to reveal a plain-looking grey cube. She sighed, annoyed. She stood up once again, and enunciated. “Birth day cake.” Another thunk. Polly checked. Another grey cube had joined the first. “I would like a birthday cake, please.” Polly reminded. There was another thunk, this one slightly squishier, as the third cube had landed on the first two. Polly checked, and annoyed with the machine, she kicked it and tried again. Another thunk, and yet another grey cube joined the others. “Oh forget it.” Polly sighed. “Where’s the kitchen?” She asked, noticing a door creaking open. She stepped through the door and found herself in an expansive kitchen, clean and silver. Polly smirked. “Thank you.” She muttered to the TARDIS.
A couple of hours later, Polly walked back into the console room, carrying a simple, if decorated cake. She scanned the room for the Doctor and Ben, and upon not finding them, placed the cake on an empty table.
“Doctor!” Polly called. “Ben!”
“Under here, Duchess!” Ben called from under the console. Polly dropped to her haunches, and her jaw dropped. The Doctor was halfway inside the console’s main pillar.
“What’s he doing under there?” Polly exclaimed.
“Well, my first distraction was to ask whether the dates were English or American. Then, I asked if it was Earth, and then he decided to take a look. But to check that, he said he’d have to take a look at the internal timing mechanism. And of course, that’s inside the console itself.” Ben explained.
“Okay, that’s enough. Doctor, come out from under there!” Polly ordered, standing up. The Doctor crawled out from beneath the console, oil stained and covered in patches.
“Yes, Polly?” He questioned, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.
“Happy birthday, Doctor!” Polly shouted, smiling and pointing to the cake.
“Oh, Polly!” The Doctor grinned. “Thank you very much!” He crossed to the cake and cut off a slice. He bit into it, and smiled even more. “Lemon! I do love lemon!” He exclaimed, clasping his hands together. Polly smiled back, and Ben smiled at her.
“Thanks, Ben.” Polly nodded.
“Don’t thank me, he’d have done it anyway.” Ben deflected. Regardless, Polly gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Before Ben could process it, the Doctor paused and gulped his bite down.
“Polly.” The Doctor began. “Did you happen to try and use the food machine?” He asked.
“Well, yes. But it wouldn’t work. It kept spitting out grey cubes.” Polly admitted.
“Did you remove them?” The Doctor asked.
“Well, they didn’t seem very nice to touch.” Polly explained. The Doctor bolted out of the console room. Ben and Polly exchanged glances, before following.
When Ben and Polly had caught up, the Doctor had already reached the food machine. He’d opened the hatch, and there was a mass of grey inside.
“Oh, dear.” The Doctor sighed. “The dispersal bay’s completely covered, and the pipes are probably clogged.”
“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry.” Polly apologised. “I didn’t realise that it would break the machine.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” The Doctor slyly grinned. “Thank you for the present, Polly.”
“But I didn’t get you anything.” Polly debated, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Oh, but you did. You got me something to fix. And I do love tinkering.” He grinned, baring his teeth like a cheshire cat.