Inspired by a recent fic I read where the 11th Doctor wonders if he still loves bananas.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
The Doctor wonders if he still hates them.
Amy and Rory are asleep and he is standing in the console room, pondering this dilemma. He remembers how terrible they used to taste. Vile, disgusting, especially from a can and drenched in sickly sweet syrup. That was the worst.
But now he is different. He has a bow tie, braces and tweed. Perhaps liking them accompanies one of these things. His tastes in food have changed drastically, after all. He stalks off to the kitchen, intent on testing this supposition. The TARDIS hums in amusement and he ignores her.
He walks into the kitchen, ignoring the fact that it looks completely different than it did early this morning. Now, it looks rather like the small kitchen of a family restaurant, complete with an eating area that looks suspiciously like an old Earth diner, checkerboard tile and all. There is a bowl of fruit on the table, with one of the things conveniently placed on the very top. He eyes the TARDIS' ceiling disapprovingly, knowing that she's mocking him. He strides to the table, picks up the pear and takes a huge bite just to spite her.
And immediately spits it back out again.
"That's disgusting!" He scrunches his face in revulsion and throws the rest of the pear in the nearest bin. The TARDIS is laughing at him, but he quickly decides to ignore her and heads back to the console room before he gets any more bright fruit ideas.
He decides that pears are still evil.
