"But it's anti-grav!"

They were doing their dance around the Tardis, the Doctor reaching out to slap a lever or push a button, or toggle a knob, while Clara moved along with her arms crossed over her chest. It was actually good exercise, she thought with a small upward tug of her lips, because they needed it with all the running they normally did. And she knew if she stopped and he gave her those big puppy dog eyes, she would relent and let him take her to a planet encased in what he assured her was a thick sheet of futuristic plastic that couldn't be shattered and had such a light gravitational pull that they could fly.

Legitimately fly.

And Clara wasn't sure she liked the idea because she'd known 'unbreakable' things and she knew they were absolutely breakable. What if a ship crashed into that shell and suddenly they were jettisoned into space? He might be fine with his alien lungs and his spaceship, but Clara would be imploded and scattered to the stars and the thought made her shudder as she turned, feet deftly moving her backwards away from him in a practiced circle around the console.

"You said we'd visit Space Vegas months ago… I've yet to see it. Saw a submarine. Saw an Ice Warrior and almost had my head ripped off, but no Space Vegas," she pointed, twirling back around and dropping her arms at her sides.

"But Clara, we could fly – come on, humans are practically programmed to want to fly."

"Not this human," she laughed.

He pointed, mouth opening in frustration before he huffed, "Peter Pan, Mary Poppins… Quidditch!"

"Stories," she reminded.

"Everything becomes a story… eventually," he pointed out.

"Not me popping off into space."

"We could tether," he suggested.

She turned, "I'm not tethering to you."

He growled, "Tether to the ground."

"What'd be the point?"

With a wag of his finger, he smiled, "Exactly…" then he raised both arms, "Clara, flying!"

"Not a flyer."

"We went on a plane! First date… day… we were on a plane."

"And I was none too thrilled."

"But we flew."

"I was dragged, technically," she muttered.

His footsteps stopped as he stated, "We're flying now," and he grinned, watching her continue the circle until her eyes popped slightly as she realized she'd been tricked and her own steps faltered.

"But we're flying inside of a space ship," she gestured around.

He grinned, that foolish grin he wore when he knew he'd won as he bent slightly and whispered, "Still flying."

Clara's nose flared slightly as she watched him gloat and she shook her head. "Not going to a planet that's lacking in gravity with a sheet of glass to protect us." And she crossed her arms, literally putting her foot down to accentuate the point, watching his lips press together angrily.

Scoffed at her, he muttered, "Fine," before he turned to the console, sulking and gesturing up at her to declare, "You flew across space on a motorbike in Akhaten…"

She raised her hands, planting them next to him, and glanced up at him to tell him with a feigned pout, "You could drop me back home, go off to your anti-grav planet and risk that invisible dome collapsing."

His mouth dropped open and he assured, "I've told you, that dome is safe! It's been safe for hundreds of years! I would never take you to a planet where your life would be in danger!"

Clara stared at him, smile ready on her lips as he fumbled, watching her eyebrows rise slightly.

"I would never take you on purpose to a planet where your life would be in danger," he corrected with a roll of his eyes as he hit a button with a palm and pulled on a handle.

She nodded, repeating, "Never on purpose."

He suddenly frowned, turning to look at her, "Is that what this is about?"

"What?" She questioned.

The Doctor looked hurt as he asked, "Do you not feel safe?"

"Doctor?"

His brow wrinkled as it knotted with concern. "Traveling with me? I asked you before, if you felt safe – because anything could happen…"

"And I told you I was counting on it," she reminded with a small nod, swallowing roughly because she remembered that day, the way she'd taken pleasure in staring up at him seductively before heading into the Tardis to find something to pull her hair up with. And he hadn't taken the hint. With a sigh, she lightly traced the edge of a button and leaned against the console, shrugging up at him to explain, "Don't mind a thing I can run from, or a catacomb I have to hide in, some unexpected thing… but this is anti-grav – a whole planet of it."

He smiled, "And it's magnificent."

"Could we really fly?" She questioned, watching the way his eyes lit up because he would be getting his way and Clara wondered if he ever didn't, with that stupid hopeful face of his. "I mean, really, actually, fly?"

Straightening acutely, he tilted his head from side to side and offered, "Well, technically, it's not flying, it's floating, but once you get acclimated, you could soar through the skies – minding the birds, which are not terribly adept oddly enough – and it's as close as you can get to actually flying."

"Could we…" she started, "Take baby steps?" Her eyes rose to find his, "Maybe hop about inside of a building? Maybe not letting go of… keeping a hold of… something… before actually flying?"

"Clara Oswald, are you afraid of flying?" He teased.

Her face scrunched as she admitted, "Used to have nightmares about floating off; parents couldn't find me or hear me and I'd wake up in a panic, holding to the bed for dear life."

Reaching over, the Doctor took her hand and smiled, "Never letting go, I promise."

Clara lifted herself off the console, grinning up at him, and nodded, telling him quietly, "Neverland we go."

"Oh, I do love Neverland," the Doctor replied, head falling towards her sideways as he went to working the controls – this time with purpose and an excitement in his every motion that was contagious. "Of course, that's just a story," he trailed before rocketing off into an expanse of techno babble about the controls in front of him as he moved about, smile eager on his face.

She was beginning to get that tingle in her stomach, feeling the Tardis rolling its way through the time vortex and she grabbed hold of the console as they shifted quickly sideways. The Doctor was prancing around her, occasionally hooting and twirling as she laughed. Flying, she considered, obviously his thing.

"So, do they have jetpacks?" She questioned.

He laughed, "Why would they need jetpacks?"

Clara shrugged, bringing her voice higher as the machine around them whirred louder and louder. Actually, irritatingly louder, she thought to herself, "If you go off course? Fly too high and can't get down? I dunno, a million different reasons, mostly ending with 'I want to get back to the ground'?"

He smiled, "It's a bit like swimming in the ocean, you just have to point your body to the ground and wave your arms about and you'll get there eventually."

Clara nodded, hands coming up to her ears as she shouted, "Why's she gotten so loud?"

The Doctor was smiling, she could see, but there was something like panic in his eyes as he shifted his screen and tapped at it, glancing at her and shrugging, "Never on purpose," he quipped.

"What's gone wrong now?" Clara demanded, hands coming away as she moved to his side, fingers of her left hand reaching out to grip his waist coat to keep from losing her balance.

He let out a nervous laugh and pointed at some gaseous blob on the monitor and told her, "Anomalous cluster of unidentifiable substances."

"Wait," she shook her head, "It's the Tardis – knows everything in the galaxy and she's flustered by a bit of gas in the night sky?"

"Not flustered," he let out another anxious chuckle.

"Doctor?" Clara asked, other hand coming up beside the first and she felt his free hand clamp down at her shoulder, digits gripping tightly to her because he too was having a hard time standing straight.

"Not flustered," he repeated, "Attracted."

The pixels on the screen brightened, bursting with bright emerald and lime hues and Clara found herself fascinated with it momentarily before she glanced sideways at the giant tubing to shout, "Big shiny explosion in the sky and she wants to head into it!"

"I'm not sure if she's got a choice," he told her honestly, hand coming off her to start working at the knobs and he slipped to his left, taking Clara with him, pointing and Clara knowingly yanked on a blue handle, releasing him to continue his dance around the Tardis.

She glared at the Doctor from across the console, "How do you mean she hasn't got a choice?"

"She's flying," he exclaimed.

"Of course she's flying," Clara shouted.

"No," he shook his head, eyes widening, "All main engines are off – she's literally flying."

"Engines off? I can hear them!"

"Those aren't the engines!"

"What are they?"

The Tardis landed with a large bang somewhere beneath their feet, sending them both to the ground with a set of pained grunts. Picking herself up quickly, Clara rushed around to the Doctor's side, helping him stand as they listening to the crashing and sloshing around them. They approached the door and she gripped his waist coat again as his arm came out, protectively keeping her just behind him as they stepped to the door.

"Doctor," Clara whispered, "Why does it sound like the ocean?"

He shook his head and gripped the handle, fingers working at it a moment before he pulled the door open and Clara let out a gasp when a silver hook met the underside of the Doctor's chin, guiding him onto the deck of what she could easily tell was a pirate ship. She didn't let go though, simply held on and slipped out of the Tardis just behind the Doctor as she watched the grin flicker over the man's face in front of them.

"Love a stowaway," the pirate told him.