Alright, let's see how you like the first chapter. The next will be updated very soon. Please leave a review and tell me what you think!
If you are interested, check out my other fics! Loki, Hidden Within, and Sherlock, Redbeard.
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"Bloody hell." Clara groaned as she searched through the endless pile of books, huddled close together in a golden box, a treasure chest type thing appearing as though it had come from the set of a low-wage pirate movie. She threw each out as she passed over them in exhaustion.

Boring titles. Boring covers. Dust landed just below her nose as if it held a strong grudge against her, forcing her to continuously sneeze.

"He can travel anywhere in time and space in his own personal little blue box,"
She grunted shaking her head, "But he can't possibly find any good books to read?"

She tossed an ugly, old object from the hidden depths of the dusty box and onto the floor, unsure of what it was. As her fingers touched the next book, under the mess of thingamabobs, she froze to stare wide-eyed at the cover, immediately admiring the work of art.

It was a classic. A book from her childhood. Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Masterpiece, she marveled, gazing at the fragile stack of paper held together by a mere threading. She opened to a random page.

~I had so many reasons to believe in my friend's subtle powers of reasoning and extraordinary energy in action that I felt that he must have some solid grounds for the assured and easy demeanor with which he treated the singular mystery which he had been called upon to fathom. Once only had I known him to fail, in the case of the King of Bohemia and of the Irene Adler photograph; but when I looked back to the weird business of the Sign of Four, and the extraordinary circumstances connected with the Study in Scarlet, I felt that it would be a strange tangle indeed which he could not unravel.~

Clara was knocked from her quiet reading by the blue doors of the TARDIS bursting open in enthusiastic energy.

"Clara, Clara, Clara!" The tall man, with the bowtie exclaimed, arms extending in such supreme bliss that it somewhat irked her.

"Doctor?" She asked raising her eyebrows with a sigh.
He approached her and took her cheeks in his hands, placing a wet kiss on her forehead, to which she simply rolled her eyes.

"Am I glad I didn't take you with me out there!" He exhaled deeply with wide eyes of mocking distress.

Clara crossed her arms over her torso with one raised brow. "Oh, really?"

The Doctor nodded in reassurance, "Believe me, Ulkatron is not your cup of tea." He hopped up, onto an upper rim facing the TARDIS control panel.
Clara obediently followed him, the book hidden in her grasp, as her arm hung down beside her.

"Ulkatrazers!" The Doctor exclaimed, clapping his hands together enthusiastically.

Clara stared, wide-eyed at the time lord. "What did you call me?" She teased with a rather serious expression.

The Doctor grinned, however kept his eyes on the glowing buttons before him. "Little brain sucking prototypes. Nasty things." He spat with a shake of his head, hitting a strange yellow lever on the control panel.

Clara jerked backwards in confusion, "Sorry?"

The Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes mockingly, "Little gadgets Clara. They look like Cybermats, quite honestly. Might even be related." The Doctor stated, staring up at something in the distance.

"However, these guys suck all the ideas out of your head and toss them across all of space and time." He added with a smile, bopped Clara on the head and sprinted up and around the panel of buttons, his small suit flying behind him. Clara blinked, and then shook the confusion away.

"Right." She sighed and raised her eyebrows, "And you took care of that, did you?" She asked with a small smirk, pulling herself up beside the Doctor as he adjusted odd TARDIS settings.

"Yes." The Doctor wiggled proudly, gazed at her and then turned his attention away again.

Clara swallowed and blushed as she posed her next question. "Doctor, may I make a request?"

The Doctor turned to her with narrowed eyes, "As long as it doesn't include any roses, or ponds." He stated firmly, and frankly quite seriously, as he sped around the rim of the controls. Clara cleared her throat and nodded, removing the book from under her arm and raising it up for the Doctor to see.
He squinted at it, and soon his blank expression brightened with a handsome smile.

"Clara, have you been reading?" He boasted with a chuckle, and winked her way. She followed him around the precarious amount of buttons.

"Well, yes. In a way." She smirked and opened the book to, yet again, another random page.

"~He had never said as much before, and I must admit that his words gave me keen pleasure, for I had often been piqued by his indifference to my admiration and to the attempts which I had made to give publicity to his methods. I was proud, too, to think that I had so far mastered his system as to apply it in a way which earned his approval.~"

When she peered up from the book, she saw the Doctor smiling sweetly down at her. She grinned and pushed closed the pages again.

"What is your request, dear Clara?" The Doctor sighed with a curious smirk.

Clara shook her head and shrugged effortlessly, "I want to meet Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." She stood up proudly and took hold of the Doctor's hand. "Please." She pleaded and watched as his expression cringed at her begging.

"What if I take you there, and Sir Doyle turns out to be a Zygon from Zygor? Hmm? What will you say then?" The Doctor asked with a peculiar twist in features.

Clara rolled her eyes, "Doctor, I simply want to meet the man and ask him about Sherlock Holmes. His stories were my childhood adventures." She admitted with an embarrassed smile and then wiggled the book in front of the Doctor's face. He furrowed his eyebrows in hesitation, before letting out a prolonged sigh.

"Fine, about the meeting. But no asking! You could throw off the future!" The Doctor warned with a stern look that soon turned to a soft, teasing expression. Clara grinned excitedly and swung around the panel of controls, eager to take off in the TARDIS.

The Doctor winked with an enthusiastic raise of his eyebrows, "The date, dear Clara?"

She let out a chuckle and stood up straight, bursting with excitement. "October 31st, 1892."
She stated firmly, "The date Sherlock Holmes was set to be published."

The Doctor smiled and bowed to her, elegantly. "As you wish." He whispered with a scoff.
He fixed the TARDIS onto its path and stared at the lever before him.

"Geronimo." He murmured to himself, and grabbed hold of the controls.