"Well, plenty of people come to your lectures that aren't supposed to. Why pick on me?" Bill asked.
"Well, I noticed you," the Doctor answered.
"Yeah, but why?"
"Well, most people when they don't understand something, they frown. You smile."
"I'll tell you what I don't understand. Sometimes when you get excited, you start to fly around, and it's like you don't even notice. How do you do that? And you always deny it. Why?"
"Yes."
Bill paused. "Yes what?"
"Yes, I deny it."
"But the main thing I don't understand, you've been lecturing here for a long time. Like, fifty years, some people say. Nabeela in the office says over seventy."
"Yeah, and you're thinking, 'Well, he doesn't look old enough.'"
"She said it was a defect, but what kind of defect puts a star in your eye?" Bill asked the Doctor, "But that doesn't even matter because she was right. There was something wrong when you looked in the puddle. That was definitely my face. I see my face all the time. I've never liked it, it's all over the place. It's always doing expressions when I'm trying to be enigmatic. I know my face, and there was something wrong with my face in the puddle. What could be wrong with your own face?" She looked up to see the Doctor's chair empty and the window open. She looked out the window to see the Doctor flying away.
She ran outside as fast as she could and chased him. "Doctor! Doctor!" She finally caught up to him, staring at the puddle. "How do you fly like that?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know . . . like Peter Pan."
"Well, I am Peter Pan."
She crossed her arms.
"Seventy years? Flying about? I'm Peter Pan. That's my face, yeah?"
"You seem a bit flexible on the subject."
"Oh, you've no idea."