From between The Eleventh Hour and The Beast Below...
[Amy is standing in the control room, looking around with wonder as the engines grind in the background. The Doctor is crouched under the console, examining the workings in the pedestal.]
Amy: Why is it a phone box?
Doctor: [rises] Sorry, what?
Amy: [points to the doors] On the outside, it said “police box”.
[The Doctor patiently starts adjusting controls.]
Amy: [suddenly hysterical] Why have you labeled a time machine “police box”? Why not “time machine”? Or is that too obvious? And what is a police box? Do policemen come in boxes? How many do you get? Are you a policeman?!
[The Doctor gives her a look.]
Amy: No, look at your hair. Actually, just look at your hair! [grabs her head] Do you ever look at your hair and think “Ugh, it just won’t stop! And my chin!” [sticks her chin out] “Look I’m wearing a bowtie! Shoot me now!”
[The Doctor shifts self-consciously, fingering his hair, chin and bowtie.]
Amy: [sobs] Am I gabbling?
Doctor: [deep breath] A bit, yeah.
[He starts flicking switches.]
Amy: The question stands.
Doctor: First question?
Doctor: It’s not really a police box – which, by the way, is a special type of telephone box that policemen used to use.
[He ducks under the console again. Amy turns her back, starting to freak out again.]
Amy: Right. Telephone box. There's a light on the top! Do you need to change the bulb?
Doctor: Amy. Stop. Breath.
[They both inhale and exhale, but Amy can’t relax.]
Amy: Why doesn’t the air get out?!
[She starts rushing around. The Doctor despairs.]
Amy: It is made of wood! Oh, you’ve got a wooden time machine! Do you feel stupid?
[The Doctor stares at her.]
Amy: Sorry. Back on the bowtie.
Doctor: It’s camouflage. It’s disguised as a police telephone box from 1963. Every time the TARDIS materializes in a new location, within the first [snaps fingers] nanosecond of landing, it analyzes its surroundings, calculates a twelve-dimensional data-map of everything within a thousand mile radius, and determines which outer shell would blend in best with the environment.
[He grins at the sheer awesomeness of the idea. Amy grins too.]
Doctor: [sighs] And then it disguises itself as a police telephone box from 1963.
Amy: Oh. Why?
Doctor: [embarrassed] It’s probably a bit of a fault, actually. I-I’ve been meaning to check.
[He ducks under the console again.]
Amy: What? It’s a police box every time?
Doctor: Yeah. I suppose. Now you mention.
Amy: [smiles] How long’s it been doing that?
Doctor: [tightly] Oh. You know. Not long.
[He pretends to be really interested in a console display.]
Amy: OK... OK, but what about the windows? There are windows on the outside! Where do they go? [frowns] Is it a cry for help?
Doctor: [confused] What?
Amy: The bowtie!
[The Doctor straightens his.]
Doctor: Hah. Bowties are cool.
Amy: And you’re an alien.
Doctor: Yeah. Well, in your terms, yeah. In my terms, [taps her forehead] you’re an alien. In quite a few people’s terms, probably.
Amy: [getting suspicious] What kind of alien?
Doctor: Well, you know, a nice one, definitely. One of the nice ones.
[He goes back to working the console. Amy prods him with a finger.]
Amy: So, you’re a... space squid or something? Or are you like a tiny little slug in a human suit? [eyes widen] Is that why you walk like that?!
Doctor: [pissed off] Amy! This is really me!
[He grabs her hands and places them on his cheeks.]
Doctor: This is what I really look like!
Amy: [irritated] Well, that’s just fine then!
[She uses both hands to slap the Doctor simultaneously. He screams.]
[He storms around the console. Amy follows.]
Amy: [breathless] Yeah, OK, I think I’m done now.
[She giggles. The Doctor chuckles and slams up the main power lever with “AVANTI-FOLLE-INDIETRO” to full. The engine noises stop.]
Doctor: Amy Pond. You’ve barely started.
[He slams the lever back again and steam starts to hiss from under the console. Amy flinches, but the Doctor is already running down towards the doors.]
Doctor: Because, you know what I keep here?
[Amy runs to join him as he leans against the doors.]
Doctor: Absolutely everything.
[He pulls back on the doors, opening them wide. Amy stares out through them, dumbstruck. The Doctor moves to stand beside her.]
Doctor: Anything take your fancy?
[Amy tries to speak but can’t. Beyond the doors are stars and nebula. She turns to face the Doctor.]
Amy: We’re in space.
Doctor: Yep. That’s space.
Amy: It can’t be.
Doctor: But it is.
Amy: It’s like, it’s like, it’s like...
[She stares out the doors, then back at the Doctor.]
Amy: Special effects!
Doctor: Like what?
Amy: [almost paranoid] It is, though, isn’t it? It’s not real!
Doctor: [shrugs] Get out.
Doctor: No. Seriously. GET OUT!
[He shoulder charges her out through the doors. She screams. He laughs...]
From between Flesh & Stone and The Vampires of Venice...
[The Doctor enters the control room, slamming the door shut. Amy skips up to the console and sprawls provocatively over it. The Doctor cautiously walks right up to her... She smirks. He doesn’t smile, but reaches past her and pulls a lever on the console. He then heads to the other side of the console, deliberately ignoring her. Amy scowls, still posed on the console.]
Amy: Oh, typical bloke. Goes straight to fixing his motor.
Doctor: That’s the thing, Amy, I am not a typical bloke.
Amy: Sorry, did I do something wrong? Because I’m getting kind of mixed signals here!
[Annoyed, she turns to face the Doctor, in doing so accidentally flips down a lever. The Cloister Bell rings.]
Doctor: [scoffs] Mixed signals? How?
[He flips the lever up again and the Cloister Bell stops ringing.]
Amy: Oh, come on.
[She advances flirtatiously on the Doctor who backs away.]
Amy: You turn up in the middle of the night, get me out of my bed in my nightie... which you then don’t let me change out of for ages... and then you take me for a spin in your time machine... [sarcastic] No, no, you’re right. No mixed signals there. That is just a signal! Like a great big Bat Signal in the sky! “Get your coat, luv, the Doctor is In!”
[The Doctor giggles girlishly and then regains control.]
Doctor: No! No, no, no, no, no! It’s... not like that. That’s not what I’m like!
[He tries to sneak past her.]
Amy: [irritated] Then what are you like?!
[The Doctor stares her right in the eye.]
Doctor: I dunno. Gandalf. A Space Gandalf. With a little green star wand.
[He spins around, miming using a magic wand, with light saber noise.]
Amy: [mock sorry] You really are not. You. Are. A. Bloke.
Doctor: I. Am. The. Doctor.
Amy: Everywhere we walk into, you laugh at all the men and show off to all the girls.
Doctor: Do not.
Amy: What about Rory?
[The Doctor laughs at the memory, miming Rory’s big nose.]
Amy: [shocked] You laughed!
Doctor: No, that was an involuntary snort. Of fondness.
Amy: You are a bloke! You don’t know it. And I am here to help...
[She wraps her arms around him again.]
Doctor: That’s not why you’re here!
Amy: [tugging at his braces] Then why am I here?
[The Doctor grabs her hands.]
Doctor: Because! I cannot see it any more.
[He lets go of Amy and walks off, slumping into a chair. She’s worried.]
Amy: See what?
Doctor: I’m 907. After a while, you just can’t see it.
Amy: See what?!
Doctor: Everything. I look at a star and it’s just a big ball of burning gas and I know how it began and I know how it ends and I was probably there both times! You know, after a while, everything is just “stuff”. That’s the problem. You make all of time and space your backyard, and what do you have? A backyard.
[He rises and points at Amy.]
Doctor: But you? You see it. And when you see it, I see it.
Amy: [quiet] And that’s the only reason you took me with you?
Doctor: There are worse reasons.
Amy: [sniffs] I was certainly hoping so.
[She turns away from him. A thought strikes her.]
Amy: Does that mean I’m not the first then?
[The Doctor shifts awkwardly.]
Amy: There have been others traveling with you?!
Doctor: [weak laugh] Yeah. Sure. Loads of em. But just friends, you know? Chums? Pals? Mates? Buddies? Well, not “mates”. Forget “mates”.
Amy: And out of all those friends, just how many would you say, just out of curiosity, were girls?
Doctor: [not liking where this is going] Some of them. I suppose. Must have been.
[The Doctor starts adjusting controls, avoiding Amy’s gaze.]
Doctor: It’s hard to tell. It’s a grey area.
Amy: Under-half? Over-half?
Doctor: [uncomfortable] Probably... slightly... little-bit-over.
Amy: Mmm. Young?
Doctor: Everyone’s young compared to me.
Amy: Mmm-mmm. Hot?
Doctor: No, no, no, no. None of them. Not really. Not at all. Probably not. [scratches cheek] Maybe one or two. I didn’t really notice.
Amy: Well, this big old machine must have some kind of visual records...?
Doctor: Oh, no. And, anyway, it’s voice-locked!
Amy: [laughs] Ah, voice-locked. So, I’d just have to say, [shrugs] “Show me all visual records of previous TARDIS inhabitants”?
Doctor: No, no, no-no-no. I mean, voice-locked. I would have to say “Show me all visual records of previous TARDIS inhabitants”.
[Amy snuggles up to him.]
Amy: Aww. Thank you.
[The console starts to beep. The Doctor twigs he’s been tricked and shouts at the console, at Amy, at everything.]
Doctor: No. NO! NO, NO, NO!!
[Amy leans on a railing, staring open mouthed at the scanner. Rose, Sarah, Romana I, Liz, Martha, Romana I, Rose, Donna, Polly, Jo, Romana I, Zoe, Victoria, Romana II, Leela, Barbara, Tegan, Peri...]
Amy: [mock outrage] Ooh, Gandalf!
[The Doctor glares at the console.]
Doctor: Thanks. Thanks, dear. Miss out the metal dog, why don’t you?
Amy: [boggles] Is that a leather bikini?!
[The scanner is showing lots of pictures of Leela.]
Doctor: RIGHT! That’s it! Rory! We’re going to find Rory! We’re going to find him NOW!
[The Doctor rushes to the controls. Amy keeps watching the scanner.]
Amy: [dismissive] He’s at a stag night.
Doctor: Well, then, let’s make it a great one.
[Realizing what he’s going to do, Amy whirls round as the Doctor sends the TARDIS hurtling through the vortex.]