Jenny's POV

"You look good on it." He said.

"What does that mean?" I asked, confused.

"Twelve years, you said?" I nodded. "You look... more mature, I suppose. I think that's the word I am looking for. Is it? Yes." He nodded, apparently satisfied with his self-given answer.

I was watching him with a sort of amazement, anger almost forgotten. "You're absolutely mad."

"I say that to him all the time." The brunette said, having entered the room again. She looked sheepishly at the Doctor. "I didn't hear any more yelling so I assumed it was okay to come back in. Oh, and I made some tea. Well, actually I haven't, but I was about to. Uh," she turned to me, "what kind of tea do you prefer?"

"Irish Breakfast with a lot of-" The Doctor began.

"Hush!" she snapped with a scowl on her face. "I know what you want, I was talking to Jenny!" She turned back to me, her expression suddenly clearing up with a smile on her face. "So?"

"Um..." I didn't know what to say.

"You can probably give her the same thing as me, which is Irish-" The Doctor tried again.

"Doctor!" She growled. "I know what you want! I make you tea all the time. You know what? You can stay here and pilot your ship while I make Jenny tea and souffles. Come on." She headed out of the room, with me cautiously following.

"What about my tea?" The Doctor called after us.

"Make it yourself!" Was her reply, carelessly thrown over her shoulder.

I followed her down the hall. "This has changed since the last time I was here." I noted, surprised.

The brunette hmm'ed in response. "Yeah, that's probably my fault. She doesn't like me, the old gal."

"Why not?" I was surprised. "She's always liked me."

We reached the kitchen door, and she pushed it open. We stepped inside and immediately my senses were attacked by all different kinds of aromas, ranging from sweet nectar and honey to badly burned pastries. Despite the different odors, it was quite welcoming in here. On the far right wall there was a small fireplace with a big black pot boiling over it, hanging from the ceiling were all sorts of herbs, cutlery, and vegetables, giving off a homey sort of vibe, in front of us was where all the dishes were stacked (there were a lot), and to the left was where the vast majority of the pots and pans were set out, ready to be used at a moments notice.

"Oh, she's never liked me." She said in a matter-of-fact sort of tone.

I shook myself slightly. "What do you mean?"

She stepped through a doorway that I hadn't previously seen, and came out with a big, see through jar in her left hand, and a bag of sugar in her right.

"The TARDIS and I have a sort of love-hate relationship going on." She started to explain.

"For how long?"

"Indefinitely, I suppose." She shrugged, then grinned at me. "I don't mind." Seeing my questioning look, she explained, "I'm a teacher, a ship doesn't scare me as much as a mad parent after I've given their child detention for throwing a tarantula into the substitute's handbag and watching said substitute run through the halls screaming bloody murder." She chuckled.

I smiled. "What's your name again?"

A/N- Hey guys! Thank you if you are still here. This a sporadic update that I wasn't planning on until about thirty minutes ago. Sorry about the wait! More to come soon! All mistakes are mine and mine alone.