For those who are curious as to how Karen would be like as the Doctor

CONTEXT
The Doctor: Karen Gillan
Matthias Lake: Young Matt Smith
Episode: The Eleventh Hour
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Stars decorate the sky, much like fireflies dancing around in the forest of the night. At the edge of Leadworth, an old yet sturdy house rests. An owl hoots in the distance, shattering the fragile silence of the evening. The slight breeze blows against a swing set in the yard, giving rise to small squeaks. Everyone seemed to have turned in after another day, yet there was a light in a room at the corner of the house.

In that room of blue walls and yellow ceiling, a young boy, no bigger than seven, kneels beside his bed with his hands intertwined with each other. His eyes are shut tight and he leans forward such that his hands touch his mouth. Exhaling, he readies himself.

"Dear Santa," he starts, "Thanks for the figurines and pencils and the badger puppet. It's Easter now, so hopefully I didn't wake you, but honestly, it's an emergency."

The boy opens his eyes and turns to the wall behind him. Speaking a little louder, he continues, "There's a crack, giant crack, in my wall." He pauses, because to him, it adds more 'drama' to his prayers. He turns back and closes his eyes once more.

"Aunt Sharon says it's just an ordinary crack," he shifts slightly, uncomfortable for staying still for so long but he perseveres, "but I don't think it is, because at night I hear voices, so please, please, could you send someone to fix it? Or a policeman. Or a-"

CRASH!

He jumps, hands coming apart. He recovers from his shock and shakes his head, disappointed that he got scared so easily. Big boys, according to him, wouldn't, no, shouldn't be frightened by a loud noise.

"Give me a moment," he says to particularly no one.

He gets up and takes two steps towards a stool, pulling it to below the window still. Stepping up, he pushes aside the translucent curtains and takes a quick peak out of the window. The child cups his hands around his face and squints. It was hard to see in the dark.

His face brightens up. There was something out there, and it was glowing.

He reaches for the blue torch, labelled 'Matthias Lake', sitting on his drawer. Jumping off the stool, the boy races out the door, slamming it loudly behind him. All seemed quiet as the room was empty. Suddenly, the door opens once again, and the boy re-enters the room.

"Thank you so much, Santa!" He shouts to the air, and sprints out the door once again.

Matthias leaps down the stairs and flings the back door open. As the cool night air greets him, he freezes for a moment. A million thoughts rush through his head. What if he was just seeing things? Maybe he was in a dream, and the crash wasn't real at all. Perhaps it was another one of his neighbour's cats falling off the tree into their yard, or the wind knocking the metal sheet off the shed, which was used to patch up the hole in its roof.

No, he tells himself, I did everything my best friend told me to do, this has to be happening.

He pinches himself and notes the sharp pain. Not sleeping, good.

Switching on his torch, Matthias takes a small step out of his house and into his garden, barefoot. He carefully makes his way through the metal arch without success as he hears a snap from a twig that he stepped on. He ignores it and steps forward, only for his eyes to feast upon a large blue box that lay sideways on the soil. Yellow light rays travelled out of the box, but other than that, it was still.

Heart beating rapidly, the seven year old inches slowly towards the mysterious object, flashlight pointer at it. He reaches out and poked the box, immediately withdrawing his hand as soon as he made contact. Nothing happened, and he let go of the breath he was holding in.

Just as he thought everything was safe, the doors of the box opened outwards towards the sky, and smoke was choked out, sounding as though it was suffocating. A grappling hook emerges from the box, flying at full speed towards him. Having quick reflexes, Matthias steps to the side as fast as he could, letting out a small yelp in surprise.

"Watch it!" He yells, annoyed.

A hand appears on the ledge, then a few seconds of nothing, and another hand appears. He hears a grunt, and a soaking wet woman clambers out of the box. He examines her, and his conclusion?

Weird.

Her eyes were unusually wide and grin unusually large. Her make-up was smeared all over her face, and the top of her shirt that was visible to him was sticking to her skin. The most notable part of her that left a great impression on him was her hair. Her long, fiery red hair was as red as the sunset he had seen on television yesterday, unless it was due to the poor lighting from the box. The boy stares at her with his mouth half-opened.

"Hey kid," she fires her words rapidly like a machine gun, "Could I have an apple? All I can think about. Apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving? That's new. Never had cravings before. Well, I'm a woman. Maybe I'm pregnant!"

She places one hand in her abdomen and feels it. Her smile turns into a frown.

"Nope, not pregnant."

The child blinks and takes a step forward subconsciously.

The strange woman with the red hair hoists herself up and rests on the edge of the box, one leg in, one leg out. She peers into her box, fascinated by what was in it.

"Whoa. Look at that. Long way down."

The child stands rooted to the ground, torch gripped tightly in his hand.

"A-are you okay?" He asks, his voice soft yet audible.

The woman looks up and squints her eyes, scrutinising the kid, sending a bit of a chill down his spine. Suddenly, she smiles widely and gives a thumbs-up, brushing her hair off her face.

"Fine, just had a fall," she claims, "All the way down there," she points into her box, "right to the library. Hell of a climb back up."

Matthias raises a brow and raises his voice a little, "You're soaking wet."

"I was in the swimming pool."

"But you were in the library."

"So was the swimming pool."

Confused further, the boy tries to counter her, blurting out his question without much thinking.

"Won't the books get wet?"

She pauses, lips pursed, "Huh, never thought of that, I'll go check later."

An awkward silence forms between the two. The boy looks to the floor, then the the box. He tilts his head and reads the words on the top. P, O, L, I, C, E...

"Are you a policeman?"

The woman shoots him a confused look and answers with more questions, "Why? Did you call a policeman?"

He nods twice and eagerly answers, "Yes."

He follows up with his purpose of calling her, "Did you come about the crack in my wall?"

That caught her interest.

"What crack? Argh!"

She tries to get down, yet she spasms, landing on the grass with a loud thud.

He instinctively moves towards her and offers his hands out, "You okay, Miss?"

She stands up instantly, completely ignoring his hand. Staggering, she replies, "No, I mean yes, I'm fine. It's okay. This is all perfectly norm-"

A breath of golden energy comes from her mouth, as though she was exhaling it. The little sparks and wisps disperse and soon disappear. The boy's eyes widen, he had never seen such magic before. Wait, was it magic? Wasn't she police?

"Who are you?"

The woman looks down at her hands, and Matthias follows suit. The same golden glittery thing 'evaporates' from them. She gives him a reassuring smile.

"I don't know yet," she admits, "I'm still cooking. Does it scare you?"

Although his heart is beating wildly in his chest, he lies, "No, it just looks a bit weird."

"No, no, no," She replies quickly, "The crack in your wall. Does it scare you?"

He gulps at the thought of it. If this woman with golden powers just emerged from a box that's smoking, anything can be in the crack.

"N-no."

"Hey," her voice became gentle and soft, "It's okay to be scared. To admit that you're scared is being very brave. So, you scared?"

A moment of silence fell before Matthias spoke up.

"Yeah."

"That's a brave kid."

She pushes herself up and rubs her hands together. A bunch of hair covers her face, it seemed unbrushed for days.

"Well then, no time to lose," she says and fires off again, "I'm the Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions, and don't wander off."

The boy watches with slight amusement as she walks right into a tree, falling flat onto the ground, face staring up at the sky. He chokes back a laugh and looks down on her.

"Are you drunk?"

She collects herself and blinks, "Early days. Steering's a bit off. Perfectly sane."

Matthias offers his hand again, and again, he was rejected. The Doctor, as she calls herself, stands up, and flips off the hair that was obscuring her view. She pauses and takes a handful of it. A wide grin appears on her face.

"GINGER!" She exclaims like a three year old identifying a colour with joy, giving the child a scare, "Loving the ginger, don't I look great in it? Nine hundred years, finally ginger!"

He switches off his torch absentmindedly and scratches his head. Her red hair does look pretty and mesmerising, but nine hundred years?

"Nine hundred?" He asks, "What're you going on about?"

She whoops in excitement and punches the air, "Going on about how the universe finally listens!"

"Listens to your Scottish accent?"

His question stunned her for a bit. The Doctor's grin drops and out of habit, she feels her throat. Gasping, she turns back to him.

"Oh my gosh, I'm Scottish! I never realised!"

The boy pinches himself again, harder this time. He doesn't believe this wasn't a dream, but the pain he felt was definitely real.

"How can you not realise you're Scottish?"

She puts her hands on her hips, "Complicated, don't bother asking."

"But I just did."

"Don't ask again then!"

He looks at her, both curious and confused. Messy hair, talking rubbish, not walking properly, clothes that look like they have been worn for days...

"You sure you're not drunk?" He shoots a question out of the blue.

The Doctor gives him a weird look, "Absolutely positive. Why would you ask?"

"My aunt's friend was drunk and he acted just like you, talking gibberish and walking into things."

"Well," she starts, full of confidence, "If there's one thing you need to know about me, I'm never drunk."

Matthias scoffs and rolls his eyes as he makes his way back to the house, the redhead following closely behind.

"You're crazy."

"You're absolutely right."