In one corner of the Nexus sits the Doctor, wearing one of those silly cone-shaped party hats (his is green with silver stars on it!), behind a rather long table that has, among a few other things, a huge cake.
Not just any cake. A birthday cake. Said cake has three candles on it, one shaped like a 9, one shaped like a 2, and another 9. There are
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"And you're... how old, by now?"
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That's not to say that he is. It's just hypothetical. Totally.
Twelve grins. "Tsk. That's not a polite question.
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Aww, come on please he's curious please please pleeeaaase?
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But then he gives her a look. "Of course it's my age, why else would I have put it on my cake if it wasn't?"
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"Well, I thought perhaps you'd lost count along the way and made up a number." Smiiile.
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"I did no such thing! I know exactly how old I am." Notice how he didn't say that 'how old he is' and 'the numbers on the cake' are the same amount.
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Shaking her head, she tsks under her breath at such a sad display but remains otherwise quiet.
"I'm sorry to say," she starts, looking over her shoulder towards the Doctor. "That I don't seem to have a gift." The corners of her lips turn upward into a faint smile. "Hopefully my presence will be enough for now."
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"Ah, yes, well," he replies, "No need in bringing gifts! I have more things than I have room for anyway." Which is, of course, a complete and total lie. He lives in a TARDIS, there's always room for more stuff. But it sounded nice to say, anyway.
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"Do you? And how much do you have, if it's not rude of me to ask?" Her eyes occasionally flicker towards the cake, eyeing the number there. "Nine hundred and twenty nine years worth?"
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... dot dot dot. "Oh!" He hands her a plate of cake. "Here! If you'd like it."
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Out of the cabinet emerges a small girl, eyes wide and curious as she approaches him, studying the cake with curiosity. "If you want to celebrate your date of birth," she begins. "Why don't you simply go to the day, instead of picking one at random? Or do you not know?"
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"Er... hello," is all he can manage. Sorry about that, baby-TARDIS.
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"Hello." She smiles, even waves to him because that seems about right given the current situation. "You don't seem to be enjoying your party anymore."
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Well, it's not exactly the most pleasant of feelings, that's for certain.
"Oh, no, party is going wonderfully!" he says hastily. "Would you like some cake? ... Can you eat cake?"
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"Oh, it's our birthday then? Great! Haven't had a good party in ages." He pats himself on the back before swiping a finger full of icing and given an approving nod.
(OOC: Oh yay, we're starting to filter into the AU section!)
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Not that, you know. This Doctor probably wouldn't have done the exact same thing if he stumbled across someone else's party, but the fact remains.
And so, he hands a plate of cake to the Doctor. Eat it, damnit.
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However, he will take the cake and eat it, if only because he gets the feeling that it may not end well for him if he doens't.
Plus it's cake. Why would he say no to cake?
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