"Ugh, look at this," Amy said, touching the mud on the front of her jumper. She had already wiped most of the mud off her face, only a few streaks remaining. "Why do I keep getting pushed? Three planets. Three planets and a space station, pushed on my face. This time, into mud. Do I have a 'kick me' sign on my back?"
The Doctor paused in front of the TARDIS door, leaning backward to look at Amy's back. "No." He reached for the handle, then looked again. "You don't have a more appropriate 'push me' sign either. Have you ever considered that you're clumsy?"
"Thought never crossed my mind."
"Good." The Doctor pushed open the TARDIS door, and they walked inside.
Amy stopped three steps in, blinking at the strangely dimmed lights. The console room was hot, and sort of balmy. She could feel beads of sweat forming on the back of her neck beneath her hair. The engines hummed, and there was a strange grinding sound with it, almost like a background noise. "What's that sound? What's wrong with the TARDIS?"
"Nothing's wrong with the TARDIS," the Doctor replied, walking past her. "We just need to wait. You should go change. Take a shower. Might help things along."
"What are we waiting on? Is it all right?" She stepped forward, up to the console. "And what do you mean 'help things along'?"
The Doctor checked one of the screens, and pulled on a lever. The grinding sound got louder for a moment, then faded out, but not completely. He chuckled appreciatively. "The TARDIS is on a masturbation cycle."
"A -- you mean... it's a machine!"
"She's far more than a machine," the Doctor replied. "The TARDIS is alive, and she has needs. Like most living beings, she occasionally has an itch to scratch."
Amy considered that for a moment, then turned to him. "Even you?"
"Of course not," he said.
She rolled her eyes, and turned around, resting her backside against the console. She heaved a sigh. "So, we just wait until it's -- she's... come?"
The Doctor shrugged. "It'd be rude to interrupt."
"I suppose -- when you said 'help things along', did you mean that the TARDIS is watching me in the shower? Does it have eyes? Cameras? In the loo?"
"I was joking. You ask too many questions. You're not her type, anyway."
"The TARDIS, the living, breathing time machine spaceship, has a type?"
Amy raised her eyebrows and smirked. "You don't approve?"
The Doctor made a face, but it was just as quickly replaced with a grin. "Ah, there she goes."
The humming sound grew louder, almost, dear god, like a moan. If an engine could moan. Though it seemed obvious to Amy, now that she was here, listening to an engine moaning, that it could. Then again, if a machine could masturbate, certainly the engines could make whatever sound they liked.
"Should we... give her some privacy?"
"It's too late for that, now," the Doctor replied. "She's about... to... blow."
"Blow?" Amy repeated. "Oh. Ohhh."
She snorted, then grabbed the console as the TARDIS shook, almost like they were taking off, but they weren't going anywhere. "Certainly sounds like a good one," she said.
The humming went louder still, higher, until it was impossible to hear, the lights flickered, and the grinding went choppy, as if there were less control in the sound, then all the noise and the movement stopped suddenly. Amy opened her mouth to speak, but the TARDIS shook again, like an aftershock, and the room became eerily quiet before the lights turned on to their full force brightness.
"Feeling better?" the Doctor asked, giving the console an affectionate pat. He turned to Amy with a grin. "All right, then. Where to next?"