A/N: Specifically to Pelahnar: you suggested Doc might like cheerios... he did (THANK YOU! Will save a ton on rabbit treats!).
Disclaimer: The Doctor does not live in a cage in my room. Doc, aka Herr Fluffermeister, does. Guess which one I actually own. Oh, and I only own the cheerios that are actually in my pantry.
Amy was eating breakfast. The Doctor and Herr Fluffermeister were… somewhere. There had been talk of monocles and fancy hats before they disappeared. She had waited an hour before getting hungry enough to start eating without them. Not that they really ate breakfast anyway. Herr Fluffermeister was a browser; he ate regularly throughout the day and night. The Doctor… ate… sometimes… when he felt like it.
But in the 'morning', that is, when Amy and Herr Fluffermeister's internal clocks said it was no longer time to sleep, the entire crew of the TARDIS would gather in the kitchen. Herr Fluffermeister would have some sort of pellets he told her quite strenuously were NOT rabbit feed but a common breakfast from his planet. The Doctor could usually be persuaded into having a cup of tea, and Amy would have whatever she was in the mood for.
She sighed in boredom as she lifted another spoonful of cereal to her mouth. It was so much more boring without conversation. There was a shout: "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CHEWED ON MY PSYCHIC PAPER?" Amy sighed again, for a completely different reason. Herr Fluffermeister really needed to stop chewing on the Doctor's stuff before he was shoved out the airlock.
Speaking of the small, fluffy creature, Herr Fluffermeister suddenly rounded the corner and darted into the kitchen. "Amy! For heaven's sake! Help me!" Before Amy could respond at all, the Doctor ran in, brandishing his ruined psychic paper in one hand and a muzzle in the other.
"Come here, you!" said the Doctor, and he dove for the lagomorph, hitting the floor heavily. Herr Fluffermeister, for his part, jumped strait up. He came down on the Doctor's head and then bounded away, which meant onto the table and into Amy's cereal. The rabbit, the bowl, and the box of cereal all went flying. They hit the floor with a crash (the bowl), a yelp (the rabbit, an actual verbalization, not the motion translator), and an indescribable sound (the cereal spilling out all over the floor).
When the Doctor finally got off the floor to see the damage, there was a milk soaked, miserable alien trying to regain his dignity by cleaning himself off. Amy was stifling giggles. "You all right?" he asked.
"Perfectly," said Herr Fluffermeister stiffly and went back to cleaning. "I hate milk," he grumbled, "it tastes disgusting." He continued to lick the offending liquid from his fur. His small pink tongue suddenly reached a piece of cereal that was on his back. "What is this?" he exclaimed, chewing it up.
"It's just a Cheerio," said Amy.
Herr Fluffermeister looked at Amy. His eyes were huge; one could even see the whites all the way around. His nose was twitching excitedly. He then looked at the cereal box on the floor. It said in bright happy lettering "Cheerios".
"No wonder you eat these instead of the pellets!" he said. "Oh, perfect little donut seeds!" The rabbit lunged for the cereal spread out all over the floor, devouring the little O's as fast as he could, dignity forgotten.
Soon after, the Doctor and Herr Fluffermeister came to an agreement. Every day that the Doctor did not discover another piece of equipment chewed on, Herr Fluffermeister got a handful of Cheerios.
Yay Cheerios, yay monocles and fancy hats, yay reviews!