I can't get chapter 25 out before the premiere, so I'm going to start this series of "Meanwhile in the TARDIS" mini-chapters to tide me over. Think of it as a gift! :D These can for simplicity's sake only be between episodes, so here's one! Also, the quotes will only be from songs. :3

To clarify, these are in fact canon.

W'P

"And we're off to the races, places/Ready, set the gate is down and now we're goin' in/To Las Vegas chaos, Casino Oasis, honey it is time to spin/Boy you're so crazy, baby, I love you forever not maybe."

-o-

"Duck!" Alistair dropped to his knees without even thinking at the Poet's yelp. A loud clang of metal on tile smashed a bit past his head on the wall behind him. He straightened up and looked at the bowl of custard oozing down the wall, and at the Poet on the other side of the room, looking guilty.

"Sorry." She said with a little shrug. "Tripped."

"You tripped." He pointed between the bowl and her, several metres apart. "And threw your food?"

"I really tripped. Over my feet. Don't look at me like that, at least it didn't hit you."

"What are we even here for?" Alistair handed her the ceramic bowl and plate she wanted, and jumped up to sit on the island in the kitchen.

"I have been told by a certain Doctor I could name that fish fingers are much better with the custard." She explained, serving the breaded sticks onto the plate and scraping the custard off the wall into the bowl as best she could.

"That's disgusting." Alistair's lip curled as the Poet experimentally dipped a fish finger in the bowl and ate it. She nodded, smiling, and did the same to another.

"Ahhh." She said, getting a stubborn shake of a ginger head.

"Never, ever, ever, in my life, will I ever, ever, ev—" The Poet poked his belly, and he involuntarily giggled. Realising her plan, her tried to close his mouth, but he found himself munching on the odd food. He made a face, then stopped and chewed a couple times thoughtfully.

"Okay," He concluded. "That's actually not bad."

"Right! Now, if I could only convince you how good peanut butter and pickles work, I would be happy."

"Ugh!" They laughed, eating their adopted snack and poking fun while thye drifted in deep space.

-O-

The Poet peeked out the door of her TARDIS, glancing around the control room of the Doctor's own. She crept into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her with a gentle click. She sniffed the air and tilted her head as though listening. Alistair had kidnapped her old hat again and she'd be damned if she didn't find it. The Poet snuck toward the console. It was like that hat was always near, but never near enough.

"Ah!"

"Woah!"

The Poet almost literally bumped into the Doctor as she reached the console, they both jumping back in surprise with sonics out in defence. After comprehending who they were, they both chuckled and put away their sonic devices.

"Have you seen a hat around here?" The Poet asked him, looking around. "Black, bowler, comfy, I wore it a lot last time round."

"Ah, no, 'friad not. Where's it gone?" The Doctor looked to the panel on his left and pushed an orange button.

"Alistair kidnapped it again. No idea where he put it, I'm pretty sure it's in here. Where are Amy and Rory?"

"Sleeping in their not bunk beds. Want help with the, er, hat?"

"Yeah, actually." The Poet smiled. "How about this. Race in the TARDIS, first one who finds the hat gets to decide the prize." She held out her hand.

"Ha, ha!" The Doctor laughed and shook her hand, nodding. "Yes, games! Love a good race. Okay, when should we . . ." He trailed off as the Poet turned and jumped over the banister with a bark of laughter, already bolting down a corridor. "What!" He cried after her, followed by footsteps in a different direction.

The Poet laughed, tearing down the hall. She sniffed down a corridor and doubled back with a screech from her trainers. After following it all the way to the end, she found it was a dead end and stopped, taking a breath. "Doctor, you . . ." She muttered and turned around again. "Help me out here." She said to the ceiling, speaking to the TARDIS.

The race continued on, the Poet actually learning her way around the TARDIS a bit better. At one point she and the Doctor intersected, saying nothing but giving each other a quick cheeky smirk before continuing on their ways.

The Poet was jogging down a corridor a good way from the control room, nothing too remarkable. She sniffed again and stopped in her tracks. A few feet ahead of her, her old bowler hat was sitting propped against the wall. She grinned and dove forward, skidding back on her heels like a baseball player to scoop up her hat and pop it on her head.

"Got it!" She exclaimed victoriously, and started running back to the control room.

The TARDIS must have labyrinth-ed her halls around to lead the Doctor back to the control room, because he arrived shortly after with a defeated expression. "Okay," He threw out his arms a little as he walked, slightly short of breath, up to the console. "What's it to be?"

"Hm." The Poet thought for a moment. "I only want one . . ." She grinned. "Kiss."

"What?" The Doctor considered the offer for a beat. "Well, all right."

"Ooh, really?" The Poet grinned. "Didn't think you'd agree, actually."

"But just the one." The Doctor clarified not-too-seriously. He leaned forward and gave her a little peck on the lips.

The Poet huffed and crossed her arms. "Well, that isn't even fair." She tapped his nose as she walked past to her TARDIS, smiling. "But don't worry. I'll get you back for that one later." She winked and hopped into the wardrobe. "Ta, and thanks for the help."