Prompter: DominusTempori

Prompt: So if baby Aly beat James in learning how to walk, what did the little guy beat his sister at?

Originally posted: 04 July 2016

Notes: 1040 words; takes place when they're about three; I'm sure Jim beat Aly in a lot of things, just as Aly beat Jim in things, because all babies are different, but this is something that I think is kind of a big one

It was Quiet Time in the TARDIS, a period of about half an hour the Doctor and Clara used as a cool-down period between playtime and naptime for the kids. Mostly it was used for snuggling and looking at picture books, but today… today was a wee bit different.

"Mummy?" James asked. Clara glanced over from her spot atop the Doctor's chest at their son, seeing he was staring at a book. It wasn't one she had seen before, but she trusted the TARDIS when it came to what the kids' bookcase was stocked with.

"What is it?"

"What's D-A-R-J-E-E-L-I-N-G?"

"Darjeeling? A type of tea; why do you ask?"

"Because Timmy the Tiger likes Darjeeling and I didn't know what it was," the boy answered.

The parents both looked at one another in surprise. "I don't remember a book about a tiger named Timmy," the Doctor frowned.

"Oh, yeah! I just found it today!" James grinned. He held it up so that his parents could see the illustrations. "A little boy in Scotland is pen pals with a tiger and they get to visit each other!"

"Liar!" Alison scowled. She stopped her coloring long enough to glare at her brother from across the rug. "You're just guessing because of the pictures!"

"Nuh-uh! It says so, right here!" James insisted. He flipped to the front of the book and slowly began to read aloud. "'One day in bon-nie Scotland, a wee lad named Donny wanted a pen pal…' Mummy? Daddy? Why's a friend called a 'pen pal'?"

"It used to be that people on Earth only wrote letters to one another on paper, because they couldn't communicate easily over long distances," Clara replied, too shocked to do much else. "That was before computers could make sending messages much quicker."

"Oh, okay," James nodded. He tried to go back to his book, but Alison threw a crayon at him instead, smacking him on the nose. "Ow! What's that for!"

"Being a liar-liar-pants-on-fire!" Alison cried. She stood and stomped her foot in frustration. "You're mean!" The little girl then ran out of the room before her parents could finish untangling themselves from one another and getting off the couch. Clara went after her, while the Doctor stayed with his confused son.

"How am I mean…?" the little boy wondered, his eyes beginning to well in tears. The Doctor sat cross-legged on the rug and peered at the pages of the book.

"Since when have you been able to read?" he asked.

"A while now," James admitted. "Why is Aly so cross?"

"She can't read, the last time I checked," the Doctor said. "Has she ever asked for help?"

"No—she just gets angry," James shrugged. He looked at his father with worry in his eyes. "Daddy? What can I do to make her un-cross?"

"Not sure; I can't remember not being able to read, so I don't know what to say or what would help. The only things I do know is that I'm glad your reading practice has been paying off… and that just because you're the first to learn to read by yourself, doesn't make you necessarily smarter or better. You have to remember that, okay?"

"Okay… but why?"

"…because if you start doing more things first than your sister, it might be easy to forget that she's just as smart as you," the Doctor explained. He pulled his son into his lap, book and all, and wrapped his arms around the boy. "Everybody learns things differently, at their own pace, and they aren't all even good at the same things. I've made the mistake of thinking 'slower' means 'stupid' before, and I want to make sure you don't make the same assumption."

"Aly won't let me forget she's smart, Daddy," James said.

"That's true, but right now she feels rather stupid," his father sighed. "There's nothing you have to apologize about, since you did nothing wrong, but don't be mean about it, alright? You two are siblings, and siblings shouldn't hate one another."

"Okay Daddy." James curled up in his father's lap, for a moment before scrambling to his feet, an idea slapped across his face. "Where do you think Mummy and Aly went?!"

"I don't know—let's find out," the Doctor said. He stood and held James's hand as they walked along the TARDIS corridors, eventually finding the nursery where Clara was sitting next to an inconsolable Alison who was sobbing on her bed. The little boy carefully went up to his sister and, with the utmost caution, tapped her shoulder.

"Aly…?"

"Go away!" she cried.

"Can I please read to you?"

"Why? So you can make fun of me?!"

"No… because it's always more fun to share a story with others." He waited until Alison stopped crying and grabbed her stuffed Alpha Centuari, making enough room for him to sit next to her with the book open. The Doctor grabbed Clara's hand and pulled her away, the two watching their children by the doorway.

"How long has James known how to read?!" Clara hissed quietly. "You'd think he would have said something by now, or Alison would have complained, but this is new!"

"Our boy sure does know how to keep the peace," he marveled. "Our daughter has your temper though."

"Our daughter has our temper, Mister," she fired back. "Don't tell me you haven't threatened genocide to get me out of a spot."

Unable to refute that, the Doctor changed the subject again. "What were you able to get out of Alison?"

"Just that she's still struggling," Clara said. "Honestly, she's at a normal rate—James is the one freakishly ahead."

They then glanced over at the kids and saw that Alison was now laying down, fast asleep from both tears and the story. James pulled her blanket over her and put the book on their table, afterwards crawling up into his own bed for a nap. Clara dimmed the lights and both parents closed the door behind them as they stepped into the corridor.

"Peace has been kept," the Doctor said.

"For the time being," Clara corrected. She tugged her space-beau's hand as she began to walk towards their room. "Come on—time for our nap."