Manners

Rose

He's perched on the worktop in the kitchen when Rose finally emerges from her room, mascara-smeared and pale faced.
"So," he prompts, "feeling any better?"
She shrugs noncommittally and busies herself with the kettle.
"I guess you're still you," she begins, "but what's with the jam?"
He looks down, guiltily, at the jar in his hand.
"You were crying, and I was hungry." The words fall from his mouth in a tangle, and he's not sure he likes the unfiltered way they tumble out. He offers her the jar. "Want some?"
She shakes her head.
"Nah. Let's get chips instead."

*****
Martha

"Doctor!" Martha exclaims as she walks into the kitchen, only to find him having a quick snack.
"What?" he says, twisting his arm to lick a drip of honey running down the side of his palm.
"That's disgusting!" she says, pointing to the jar of honey on his lap. "You can't just eat it from the jar with your fingers."
"Why not?" He seems genuinely surprised that she's so horrified.
"It's unhygienic! You've just put me right off eating anything in this kitchen," she frowns, then brightens a moment later. "So now you're going to take me out to dinner."

*****
Donna

He reaches for the jar that Donna set on the counter and absently unscrews the lid, still talking ten to the dozen.
"So I changed the input polarity on the reality decoder and gave it a new cup of really hot tea..." Unheeded, his fingers scoop up the oozing contents of the jar and bear it ever closer to his mouth. "...and before I knew it there was an enormous explosion and..." Barely pausing in his monologue, he puts the jar back down and licks the sticky residue from his fingers.
An expression of surprised disgust blooms across his face.

"That's wrong! That's, that's... NOT JAM!" He leaps from the counter and runs from the kitchen. For a skinny streak of nothing, he can show a fair turn of speed, given the right incentive.
A scant half a second after the Doctor's abrupt exit, Donna's toast pops up. She considers the jar of Marmite for a moment, but decides that nothing unpleasant, not even Time Lord nasties, could survive in something that salty.
Satisfied, she returns the jar to the shelf, basking in the knowledge that from now on eating jam in the Tardis kitchen will be a lot safer.