Thimble (a Panfiction)

Chapter Two: Finding Peter

"Doctor," Clara began.

"Oh no," growled the Doctor leaning his head back slightly in annoyance. "Don't give me those eyes--I know those eyes! Your face is wide enough as it is, Clara, without giving me those eyes!"

"Doctor!" Clara said again, silencing him. "Can I choose where we go today?"

"No, no, no," the Doctor cried, pulling a few levers and firing up the helmet regulator. "I've got it all planned out already. A trip to Pluto's moon, Charon! Did you know Pluto was named after the Roman god of death? Fascinating place really--" seeing that he was losing her attention, he jumped to another idea. "Or Raxacoricofallapotorious! I brought Rose Tyler and Jack Harkness their once! Just dropping off an egg. Lovely species, Raxacoricofallapotorians! Just don't mess with the Slitheen--tried to blow up the whole planet! Twice. Or, we could go back in time and meet some pirates! Sea dogs, some people called them. Or space pirates! I know a few space pirates! Captain Henry Avery--"

"Doctor," Clara persisted. "Please?"

"Arh, fine," the Doctor agreed in resignation. "What is it this time?"

"You know how I wanted to visit Robin Hood, and you said he wasn't real but then he was?" Clara asked quickly, her head popping out from the other side of the console so that she could look at him.

"Oh no," the Doctor groaned. "Just because one fairytale existed, Clara, doesn't mean they're all real."

"But even if they're not, fairytales are based on truth, yeah?" Clara fixed her wide eyes on him. "Like that girl in that mansion who was running through a pocket universe that moved way slower than our own, and all those stories sprang up about ghosts?"

"So who do you want to look for? The Highwayman? Pinocchio? Goldilocks and the Three Bears of Doom?"

"I was thinking..." she was watching him carefully now. "Peter Pan!" she gushed at last.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Clara!" Twelve moaned.

"Oh, come on!" insisted Clara. "Flying and never aging and second stars to the right...that sounds very sci-fi-y. What if Peter's like a robot gone wrong or something? Or an alien?"

"So you want to investigate the stories of Peter Pan and see where they all came from?" the Doctor asked, making his way up the stairs to one of his bookshelves.

"Yeah, actually," Clara replied, following him.

The Doctor snatched one of the books off the wall and shoved it at her. "Here. All you need to know. They say Peter Pan is a folktale--it was actually written by a man called James Matthew Barrie! He based it on the adventures and imagination of these five young boys he was friends with. One of them was named Peter; he would make up stories about all the things Peter could do, and when that Peter failed to do these things, he invented another Peter—Peter Pan, the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up. Peter Pan is a made up character! So is Wendy Darling. So is Captain Hook. So is that fairy creature. Tinker Bell. It's all in there, Clara. If you want to visit him, read the book and use your imagination." He was already back at the console with his back turned to her. He raised his hands over his head and flapped them dismissively on the last words for emphasis.

"Doctor, you said I could choose," Clara insisted, whining slightly. "Besides. Neverland is the Second Star to the Right. Maybe it's actually a planet instead of a--magical--world! And maybe they use some sort of...technology or something to fly."

"Clara, this is completely ridiculous! We could be off sailing high seas, composing music with Bach, preventing explosions, saving planets!" With each thing he suggested he thrust one of his hands into the air.

"Doctor--"

"Fine," the Doctor sighed. Dully he began putting in the coordinates. "Earth, 20th century, Kensington Gardens, England." He pulled the lever.

The TARDIS shook as at travelled through the time vortex. Miraculously, not a single book fell off the shelf. Clara had always attributed it to something clever thing the Doctor had done with force fields or artificial gravity or something.

"Why are we going to London instead of Neverland?" Clara asked the Doctor over the ruckus of the entire ship shaking.

"Because we don't know where Neverland is," the Doctor shouted back.

"Well it was 'Second to the Right and then Straight on 'Til Morning," Clara pointed out. "Doesn't that mean something in--space language or whatever?"

"It would, if we knew which star to count from," the Doctor replied. "And what position you have to view the stars from. And which morning."

With the normal materialization sound, they landed. The Doctor opened the door and peered outside. He exited the TARDIS and began to walk down a broad path; Clara followed.

"It's nighttime," Clara complained.

"Yes it is," the Doctor confirmed.

"How're we supposed to find Peter Pan if it's nighttime?"

"Haven't you seen the play?" the Doctor answered. "It's supposed to be night! That's when Peter Pan supposedly whisks Wendy and her brothers away--" as he said this he threw his hands into the air above his head. "Or if you've read The Little White Bird, you'll know that it's only at night, after Lock-Out Time, that the fairies appear!"

"Yeah, well, there's nothing here," Clara observed, scanning the gardens quickly.

"Yes, that's the point; exactly!" the Doctor agreed.

Clara whipped her head around to look back at the TARDIS just in time to see a small boy clad in leaves fly inside. "Doctor."

"No little fairies," the Doctor was saying, pulling his hands close to him and wiggling his fingers magically. "No flying children. No Peter—"

"Doctor!" Clara said again as the TARDIS began to dematerialize.

"No!" the Doctor cried, running towards the TARDIS as it faded in and out. "Wait!"