who the doctor & rose what calling him out on his avoid-yness where his TARDIS.. in their flat when saturday afternoon warnings maybe some angst? nothing major, really!
There was a lot going on. The Doctor had been keeping busy to avoid thinking about it. From conventions to locating lost plutonium, he maintained a busy summer. Anything that would keep him from focusing on what preoccupied any given part of his mind at a time, the Doctor happily took. Teaching, analyzing paint, taking a future wife out for a walk, and now this: the impending return of the show from which he was sourced.
The Doctor didn't view himself as fictional. He believed every person dragged through the Tesseract to be real. He had a theory, one he rather liked, and had seen something close it put on paper by another on Earth (and subsequently dismissed by the majority of the philosopher's peers, no less). One thought could bring something to life somewhere else, because everyone was connected. So, that there was a show in this universe carrying on his legacy didn't bother him at all, nor did the fact people could sit down and watch it for the sake of entertainment.
What bothered him was that it wasn't him anymore, and it hadn't been for a long time. So very long.
With nothing to do that day, the Doctor had opted to forgo sleep and stayed working in the TARDIS. By mid afternoon, he'd upgraded some of the systems and hit a wall that he blamed on the Tesseract. He had his doubts on ever being able to repair the ship to her full space-time traveling capacity, but Rose kept him hopeful.
Through the open doors of the ship rolled K-9, instantly lighting a faded smile on his face. He was underneath the flooring again, a light strapped to his head and glasses on. Poking his head up over the hole he'd made, the Doctor folded his arms over the floor and watched the metal dog approach him with a cup of tea on a tray.
"Well, you are brilliant, you are! Wonder why that is?" He quirked a grin as he took the cup and sipped at it happily.
"Because I am," the dog replied cheekily, then turned away to inspect some of the work its master had done.
"No credit at all, is it?" He sighed dramatically, then pulled himself up all the way to sit instead with his feet dangling into the opening. His back was to the open doors, jacket hanging from the coat stand nearby, and he sighed. Even the tea wasn't quite so soothing. No good.