[
Good Morning Paradisa! Sorry, sorry, shhhhh, shhhh. Is it early? Who knows? Best keep the noise down just in case. Well, the TARDIS has been watching the comings and goings of some people these last few weeks and it's been nice to have the odd visitor. Although the reason why for that she isn't too pleased about. If the old girl could huff and scoff she would do. Another day of this until-- The TARDIS feels the subtle change as someone moves to wakefulness before even her silly thief is aware of it.
Let it never be said that she doesn't have a sense of humour, because a piece of music is piped throughout the currently available TARDIS configuration...
...In the Zero Room, a journal magically appears and the pages gently flip open as if caressed by a soft morning breeze. Or as if dancing to the music, swaying on a lullaby of renewal... Breathe it in folks... Beautiful, innit? A sleepy voice joins it. ]
Ros- Rossini. Five more... Five more minutes...
[
The TARDIS ramps up the volume. The Doctor groans. And then rolls over, except he rolled himself off that board and is face first on the floor before he pushes himself up slowly to a sitting position. ]
Ow. Ooh that stings. What? Yes. Yes! Thank you! I'm up!
[
And the music returns to a more tolerable level, he wipes a hand down his face and then stops because... Stubble? He has the beginnings of a beard. Now that wasn't there before! And now extra awake
he takes stock of his surroundings. ]
Well, I don't remember coming down here. And where on Earth did that come from? Was I under the console again? Because a creeper board would actually come in quite handy and- Oh dear. What happened this time? And... Good grief. What in the blazes is that smell?
[
That smell is the Doctor. Because two weeks in dirty clothes and without a bath, he reeks. And finding his journal, he picks it up, starts to look through... ]
What? Now that's not right. No...
A FORTNIGHT?!