The laughter was infectious, a welcome reprieve from the earlier gloom they'd shared at the chippy. He was grateful for it and fully intended to bask in as much of the lighthearted familiarity between them that he possibly could. The real world could wait a little while longer, he needed to savor this rare moment as long as it lasted.
“Not a bad idea at all,” he agreed on breathless laughter, pulling his hands free of their pockets and all but leaping down the ramp to where she stood at the center of the console room. The TARDIS might be a little worse for wear, but she had enough in the energy reserves to spare the ship's viewing room for one night.
“C'mon then, Rose Tyler, we've a film to watch,” he announced, before grasping her hand in his and jerking her toward the corridor with a sorely missed bounce in his step. He was a little surprised when the TARDIS mustered enough power to rearrange the rooms for them, bypassing the labyrinth like halls that they would have had to weave and wind through in order to reach the activity room in question. He wouldn't have minded it, wagered Rose wouldn't have either, but he gave the smooth metal of the corridor wall a gentle, appreciative pat.
The door was already open and welcoming when the structure reasserted its self and settled, much like a jigsaw puzzle, each little piece finding its nook and squeezing in where it could to build and reveal something new. The Doctor spared Rose a curious expression, “she's being rather accommodating for once, considering the state she's in, must be 'cause you're on board—the TARDIS is never this agreeable when it's just me,” he muttered, bemused, as he leaned into the threshold of the room and gave the blond enough room to pass through.
Inside, she would find two over stuffed, patchwork recliners and a rather large, brown leather sofa with a quilted white throw blanket across its cushions. Each were situated in the center of the moderate but cozy room, its cottage-like feel a dramatic contrast to the immediate interior of the organic machine. Placed a short distance from the furniture was a something resembling a projector screen, but instead of the standard white vinyl she might be used to, it was transparent and appeared to be self-sustaining a few feet from the ground. He approached it, sneakers creaking against the worn wooden floorboards beneath when he paused before a small control panel and started a search for Finding Nemo in the TARDIS database.