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wishiknewwhoTitle: Serendipity
Author: wishiknewwho
Character/Pairing: TenII/Rose
Rating: Teen-ish
Summary: The Doctor decided to call it serendipity, that moment when fate and desire collide.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and it's probably just as well that I don't because it'd be nothing but hugs and hair ruffling for the foreseeable future.
Spoilers: Post-JE
Author's Notes: Yes, what you see here is me updating on the day I said I would. This fic is, of course, for the lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nipplemuggins. She's one of the most awesome people in the Whoniverse.
Thanks as always tosalimali for the beta. She rules.
The first trimester had been rough, both on the Doctor and Rose. But with the second trimester, Rose’s hormones found equilibrium, her morning sickness abated, and she generally felt better. It had been a rough three months, but the two of them finally felt like they were out of the woods, at least for a while. The Doctor finally let himself breathe a giant sigh of relief: the baby was healthy, Rose was healthy, and they were happy.
Early in Rose’s second trimester, the Doctor learned something new about pregnancy, something he’d never known before, and certainly never planned on during the tears and temper tantrums of the first trimester: all those hormones could actually be good for something.
He’d had a long day at work. The kids had been nothing short of wild and it was one of those days where he felt like he was merely surviving instead of accomplishing anything, of making an impact. As he rode the bus home, he thought only of getting home to Rose, of wallowing in her comfort. When he had days like this, she was an expert at reminding him why he loved his job, of the difference he was making in the world, seemingly so small, but so important. She was his refuge. He leaned his head against the cold window and closed his eyes, thinking only of the woman waiting for him at home.
And waiting for him she was. He barely got his key in the lock and the door open before she was taking his bag from his arm and helping him out of his coat.
“Hi,” she said with a wide smile as she pulled him to her for a kiss.
He let himself get lost in it for a moment before his exhaustion took over and he pulled away. “Hey,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Hi, baby.” He dropped his hand to her stomach, resting it over the slight swell there. It had become a habit for them in the past months, him saying hello to her and then the baby. Sometimes it amazed him, these little habits he’d fallen into so easily as a human, but they were the things that sustained him, the little moments that fused the two of them together, that made them unique.
Rose grabbed his hand, moving it to her waist and then burying her own hands in his hair before rocking up on her toes and kissing him fiercely. She backed him up to the door, pressing her hips against his, trapping him. Her lips moved over his, kissing him desperately, as if she hadn’t seen him in years. Her tongue searched out every corner of his mouth and she moaned as his tongue met hers. She only let him go when they both needed air.
“Rose?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Not that I mind at all, but what brought this on?” There hadn’t been much sex for the past few months. Rose had been too sick, too drained and exhausted to muster up the energy most of the time, not to mention that her messed up hormones left her almost permanently turned off.
She gave a little shrug, moving her lips to his neck, kissing a line up to his ear, behind it, and then back down. “I don’t know,” she whispered against his skin. “I just felt good today. Really good. And this seemed like a good idea.”
He tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her face back up to his so he could kiss her. He kissed her passionately, but slowly turned it chaste until he was kissing just the corner of her mouth and then her cheek. He wanted his body to respond to hers, but he was so tired, so stressed, it just wasn’t the time yet. “Rose,” he whispered gently. His mind raced, trying to figure out a way to explain this to her so she wouldn’t think it was something she’d done to make him feel this way. She’d been so moody lately, and the smallest thing could have her in tears. He’d never turned her down before, and he was sure this was probably the worst time to do it.
“Hmm?” she murmured, moving her leg between his.
He braced his hands on her shoulders, gently putting some space between them. She looked at him with confusion in her eyes.
“I’ve had an awful day, love,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Can you give me a little while to get myself together and then we can...” he gestured between them. “You know.”
She watched him for a moment, and he held his breath, worried how she might react. He prepared himself for the worst, for her to cry or shout at him, telling himself he could take it, even if his day had been terrible and he needed her comfort more than anything else. But she did neither of those things. Instead, she took his hand in hers, gave him a reassuring little smile, and tugged him towards the living room. He followed willingly, and she didn’t speak until she had them settled on the sofa, his head in her lap, her fingers threading through his hair.
“Tell me what happened,” she said soothingly.
He spilled his heart out to her while she listened and played with his hair. He told of a colleague who was rude, children who refused to listen, one who broke a piece of expensive equipment, and the irate parent who refused to pay. She murmured sympathy in all of the right places and once he was finished she kissed his forehead and held him close to her, promising him that tomorrow would be a better day.
He let her hold him, let her bathe him in her warmth and joy, until he felt like he could face the world again. He looked up at her, and she was gazing down at him with a soft smile, concern in her eyes. He was in awe of her.
“Are you all right?” she asked, gliding her fingers down his cheek.
“I’m perfect,” he said, grabbing her hand in his own. “I’ve just realised the most amazing thing, Rose.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You are going to be a brilliant mum.” He kissed her hand, his lips lingering over her skin.
Her smile grew. “What makes you think that now?” she asked.
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her belly. “I’ve always thought it, of course,” he said. “But just now, you being so kind and listening to me, I realised it. Our child is going to be so loved.”
“By both of us,” Rose said, her eyes looking a little teary. He didn’t mind the crying, though; his own eyes felt a little wet.
“By both of us,” he agreed. “I already love her so much, and I haven’t even met her. I can only imagine what it’ll be like to hold her.”
Rose grinned and shook her head at him. “I can’t wait to see you and him playing together. He’s going to follow you around like your shadow.”
Ever since the day of their bet, Rose had taken to calling the baby him and he’d been calling the baby her, both of them trying to get the other to concede.
The Doctor sat up and pulled her to him for a kiss. “I’m feeling a lot better now,” he said.
“Yeah?” she asked, kissing him back, letting her fingers trail under the collar of his shirt. “How much better?”
“Oh much,” he said, shifting her until she was sitting on his lap. “How are you feeling?”
“Like my hormones are being used for something entirely different,” she said with a smirk.
“What’s that?” he asked playfully, his hands sliding down to her bum, delighted with the turn his terrible day had taken.
Before he could hold onto her, she jumped off his lap and grabbed his hands, tugging him off the sofa. “How about I show you?” she said, leading him towards the bedroom.
The Doctor smiled to himself as he followed her. If this is what he had to look forward to, the second trimester just might turn out to be his favourite.
“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” the midwife asked.
The Doctor and Rose both looked up at her, startled.
“No,” the Doctor said, just as Rose was saying “yes.”
He turned towards her, midwife forgotten for a moment. “How can you want to know?” he asked.
Rose shrugged. “It would make things easier. You know, we’d know what kind of clothes to buy, what colour to paint the nursery.” They’d decided to stay in their flat; it was their home, a place they’d chosen together, and neither of them was ready to give it up just yet. They’d wait until the baby was bigger, or they got ready to have another, and then they’d find another place. “Plus, we could put an end to this bet. We’d finally know who wins.” She grinned and cocked an eyebrow at him.
The Doctor shook his head. “No way, Rose. I want it to be a surprise.”
Rose frowned. “But I want to know.” She was whining and he knew what that meant: if she didn’t get her way, she’d be miserable to put up with. He’d been making sure that she got everything she wanted for the last few months; it made his life easier, and besides, if she had to go through the pain of carrying their baby, then she deserved to have what she wanted.
But he didn’t want to know. He turned to the midwife and sonographer. “Could we have a moment?” he asked. They nodded and discreetly left.
Once they were alone, he turned back to Rose, trying to gather his thoughts before he plead his case.
“What’s this all about?” she asked. “I want to know the sex of the baby.” She stuck her bottom lip out petulantly, and if he hadn’t seen that look of hers far too much in the recent past, he might have thought it was cute.
“Rose,” he said, his voice calm. “You know that I’ve done this before, right?”
Her brow wrinkled. Although he’d finally opened up to her about his feelings for her and everything he went through after she was gone, they hadn’t talked much about his life before the Time War. “I remember you saying once that you had children,” she offered tentatively.
The Doctor nodded. “Yes. It was a very long time ago. And it was much different, on my planet. I wasn’t really involved. And from before the babies were conceived, loomed, we knew everything about them. Hair colour, eye colour, IQ, sex. We even knew how tall they would grow up to be.”
Realisation dawned in her eyes. “You like not knowing about this one then,” she said, placing a hand on her rounded belly.
“Yes,” he said, taking her free hand in his. “I’ve never experienced it like this. The last time, it didn’t feel real. But this,” he placed their hands over her belly, “this feels real. It’s perfect. We can find out early on the next one Rose, I promise. But please, let this one be a surprise.”
Her eyes were shimmering but she gave him a small smile and lifted his hand to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “Absolutely,” she said. “I want this to be everything you want it to be, love.”
He nodded and wiped at his eyes, then rested his head on her abdomen. “Thank you, Rose,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Thank you so much. I know I say it all the time, but you have no idea what this means for me.”
“Or me,” she said quietly. “I never thought that you’d want this with me.”
He pulled back from her, his eyes wide. “I always wanted this with you. Even before. I just didn’t know how then. But now I can give you everything I have, can show you every day how much I love you.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting hers for a sweet kiss. “This is the life I’ve always wanted.”
She kissed him again. “Me too,” she agreed.
It was the middle of the night and the Doctor couldn’t sleep. He’d lain down with Rose hours before, intermittently kissing her and whispering stories to the baby until she drifted off. He’d waited for his own sleep to come, calmly turning from first his right side, then his left, even his stomach, but there was nothing. He wasn’t worried and nothing was bothering him. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day and he wasn’t particularly excited. Still, he couldn’t sleep.
He had nights like these from time to time. When he’d first arrived in this universe, newly human, enamoured with Rose Tyler, equal parts afraid and excited for what each new day would bring, he’d had so much trouble sleeping. But with Rose’s help and the passage of time, he got used to his new life and he managed to calm down enough to sleep. Nightly insomnia turned to weekly insomnia turned to monthly insomnia. It was still annoying when he couldn’t sleep, but he could handle it.
Afraid he’d wake Rose with his tossing and turning, he got up, careful not to disturb the duvet too much. He’d learned that if he lifted it too high, she’d feel the cold air and wake up. He’d learned the hard way that interrupting Rose Tyler’s sleep was never a good thing. Well, mostly never.
He made his way to the kitchen, looking for a late night snack, but nothing looked interesting. He’d already had biscuits that evening and Rose had eaten the last of the crisps. He could always make a sandwich, but upon further reflection, he realised he wasn’t hungry enough to make the effort.
He wandered around the living room. None of his books looked interesting and there was nothing on telly. Some nights, he’d pull out his work stuff and get some things done, enabling himself to come home early the next day, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Before he even realised what he was doing, he found himself walking toward the nursery, pushing the door open and letting himself in. They’d painted the walls a bright cheerful green, planning to decorate with either blue or pink, depending on who won the bet.
Smiling softly to himself, he walked around the room. Although the baby wasn’t there yet, the room already felt like home. As his eyes landed on the dark wooden crib, the changing table, the chest of drawers, the rocker, his mind was flooded with images of everything that would happen in this room.
He could see Rose, sitting at the chair, feeding their little girl. She’d watch the baby and the baby’s hand would reach up, curling her tiny fingers in Rose’s hair. He’d watch from the doorway, and once the baby was finished, he’d take her from Rose and gently lay her down in the bed. He’d pass his hand over her forehead, whispering his love.
He could see himself, standing at the changing table, putting a clean nappy on the baby. He’d talk to her in a silly voice and she’d giggle, delighted with how clever her daddy could be. He’d lift her up and hold her close, kissing both of her cheeks as she continued to giggle. Rose would come in and wrap the two of them in a hug, and he and the baby both would sigh at the presence of the woman they both thought of as home.
Crossing the room, he pulled out one of the white babygros he’d bought the week before. He held it, feeling how soft it was, breathing it in; it already smelled like them, like their home because Rose had washed them before putting them away in the chest. He marvelled at the size of it, barely larger than his hand, and couldn’t believe that their baby would be that tiny.
How could he protect something that tiny? Sure, he’d saved entire civilizations, but they weren’t so small, so helpless. They didn’t depend on him for everything the way this baby would. What if he failed her?
Feeling overwhelmed with the joy and excitement of it all, he sank down into the rocking chair, the babygro still clutched in his fist. He took a few deep breaths, telling himself that what he was feeling was normal. All fathers had that moment where they panicked, sick with worry that they wouldn’t be enough for their child. After a few moments, his grip on the babygro loosened and he spread it out over his leg. His finger stroked over the black letters on the front. Thursday. He’d bought one for every day of the week. He’d thought they were hilarious; Rose thought they were adorable. He smiled. He couldn’t wait to see his baby in them, and planned to put her in the wrong days, just to confuse people.
He rocked the chair slowly back and forth. He’d hold the baby here too, her little head resting on his shoulder as he soothed her to sleep. He was just trying to decide which would be the best lullaby when he heard Rose cry out his name.
He leaped from the chair, babygro falling to the floor as he ran to their bedroom. His heart felt like it was racing out of his chest. He’d thought he was panicking a few moments ago, but that was nothing compared to the agony he felt as he raced down the hallway. He threw the door open to find Rose sitting up in bed, her hands cradling her belly. She was smiling at him.
“He’s moving,” she said, beaming up at him.
He crossed the room in two long strides, his joy so great he couldn’t be bothered with correcting her about the sex. Kneeling on the bed next to her, his hands hovering over her belly, over his baby, he asked her, “where?”
“Here,” she said, taking his hand and putting along the right side, just below her belly button. He shifted closer and together they waited, neither of them speaking.
After a few moments that felt more like an eternity, he felt a little nudge under his palm. Grinning up at Rose, he wiggled his fingers as he felt it again. “Is that her?” he asked.
Rose nodded. “He’s real, Doctor. And he’s making his presence known.”
Author: wishiknewwho
Character/Pairing: TenII/Rose
Rating: Teen-ish
Summary: The Doctor decided to call it serendipity, that moment when fate and desire collide.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and it's probably just as well that I don't because it'd be nothing but hugs and hair ruffling for the foreseeable future.
Spoilers: Post-JE
Author's Notes: Yes, what you see here is me updating on the day I said I would. This fic is, of course, for the lovely
nipplemuggins. She's one of the most awesome people in the Whoniverse. Thanks as always to
salimali for the beta. She rules.The first trimester had been rough, both on the Doctor and Rose. But with the second trimester, Rose’s hormones found equilibrium, her morning sickness abated, and she generally felt better. It had been a rough three months, but the two of them finally felt like they were out of the woods, at least for a while. The Doctor finally let himself breathe a giant sigh of relief: the baby was healthy, Rose was healthy, and they were happy.
Early in Rose’s second trimester, the Doctor learned something new about pregnancy, something he’d never known before, and certainly never planned on during the tears and temper tantrums of the first trimester: all those hormones could actually be good for something.
He’d had a long day at work. The kids had been nothing short of wild and it was one of those days where he felt like he was merely surviving instead of accomplishing anything, of making an impact. As he rode the bus home, he thought only of getting home to Rose, of wallowing in her comfort. When he had days like this, she was an expert at reminding him why he loved his job, of the difference he was making in the world, seemingly so small, but so important. She was his refuge. He leaned his head against the cold window and closed his eyes, thinking only of the woman waiting for him at home.
And waiting for him she was. He barely got his key in the lock and the door open before she was taking his bag from his arm and helping him out of his coat.
“Hi,” she said with a wide smile as she pulled him to her for a kiss.
He let himself get lost in it for a moment before his exhaustion took over and he pulled away. “Hey,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Hi, baby.” He dropped his hand to her stomach, resting it over the slight swell there. It had become a habit for them in the past months, him saying hello to her and then the baby. Sometimes it amazed him, these little habits he’d fallen into so easily as a human, but they were the things that sustained him, the little moments that fused the two of them together, that made them unique.
Rose grabbed his hand, moving it to her waist and then burying her own hands in his hair before rocking up on her toes and kissing him fiercely. She backed him up to the door, pressing her hips against his, trapping him. Her lips moved over his, kissing him desperately, as if she hadn’t seen him in years. Her tongue searched out every corner of his mouth and she moaned as his tongue met hers. She only let him go when they both needed air.
“Rose?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Not that I mind at all, but what brought this on?” There hadn’t been much sex for the past few months. Rose had been too sick, too drained and exhausted to muster up the energy most of the time, not to mention that her messed up hormones left her almost permanently turned off.
She gave a little shrug, moving her lips to his neck, kissing a line up to his ear, behind it, and then back down. “I don’t know,” she whispered against his skin. “I just felt good today. Really good. And this seemed like a good idea.”
He tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her face back up to his so he could kiss her. He kissed her passionately, but slowly turned it chaste until he was kissing just the corner of her mouth and then her cheek. He wanted his body to respond to hers, but he was so tired, so stressed, it just wasn’t the time yet. “Rose,” he whispered gently. His mind raced, trying to figure out a way to explain this to her so she wouldn’t think it was something she’d done to make him feel this way. She’d been so moody lately, and the smallest thing could have her in tears. He’d never turned her down before, and he was sure this was probably the worst time to do it.
“Hmm?” she murmured, moving her leg between his.
He braced his hands on her shoulders, gently putting some space between them. She looked at him with confusion in her eyes.
“I’ve had an awful day, love,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Can you give me a little while to get myself together and then we can...” he gestured between them. “You know.”
She watched him for a moment, and he held his breath, worried how she might react. He prepared himself for the worst, for her to cry or shout at him, telling himself he could take it, even if his day had been terrible and he needed her comfort more than anything else. But she did neither of those things. Instead, she took his hand in hers, gave him a reassuring little smile, and tugged him towards the living room. He followed willingly, and she didn’t speak until she had them settled on the sofa, his head in her lap, her fingers threading through his hair.
“Tell me what happened,” she said soothingly.
He spilled his heart out to her while she listened and played with his hair. He told of a colleague who was rude, children who refused to listen, one who broke a piece of expensive equipment, and the irate parent who refused to pay. She murmured sympathy in all of the right places and once he was finished she kissed his forehead and held him close to her, promising him that tomorrow would be a better day.
He let her hold him, let her bathe him in her warmth and joy, until he felt like he could face the world again. He looked up at her, and she was gazing down at him with a soft smile, concern in her eyes. He was in awe of her.
“Are you all right?” she asked, gliding her fingers down his cheek.
“I’m perfect,” he said, grabbing her hand in his own. “I’ve just realised the most amazing thing, Rose.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You are going to be a brilliant mum.” He kissed her hand, his lips lingering over her skin.
Her smile grew. “What makes you think that now?” she asked.
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her belly. “I’ve always thought it, of course,” he said. “But just now, you being so kind and listening to me, I realised it. Our child is going to be so loved.”
“By both of us,” Rose said, her eyes looking a little teary. He didn’t mind the crying, though; his own eyes felt a little wet.
“By both of us,” he agreed. “I already love her so much, and I haven’t even met her. I can only imagine what it’ll be like to hold her.”
Rose grinned and shook her head at him. “I can’t wait to see you and him playing together. He’s going to follow you around like your shadow.”
Ever since the day of their bet, Rose had taken to calling the baby him and he’d been calling the baby her, both of them trying to get the other to concede.
The Doctor sat up and pulled her to him for a kiss. “I’m feeling a lot better now,” he said.
“Yeah?” she asked, kissing him back, letting her fingers trail under the collar of his shirt. “How much better?”
“Oh much,” he said, shifting her until she was sitting on his lap. “How are you feeling?”
“Like my hormones are being used for something entirely different,” she said with a smirk.
“What’s that?” he asked playfully, his hands sliding down to her bum, delighted with the turn his terrible day had taken.
Before he could hold onto her, she jumped off his lap and grabbed his hands, tugging him off the sofa. “How about I show you?” she said, leading him towards the bedroom.
The Doctor smiled to himself as he followed her. If this is what he had to look forward to, the second trimester just might turn out to be his favourite.
~o~
“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” the midwife asked.
The Doctor and Rose both looked up at her, startled.
“No,” the Doctor said, just as Rose was saying “yes.”
He turned towards her, midwife forgotten for a moment. “How can you want to know?” he asked.
Rose shrugged. “It would make things easier. You know, we’d know what kind of clothes to buy, what colour to paint the nursery.” They’d decided to stay in their flat; it was their home, a place they’d chosen together, and neither of them was ready to give it up just yet. They’d wait until the baby was bigger, or they got ready to have another, and then they’d find another place. “Plus, we could put an end to this bet. We’d finally know who wins.” She grinned and cocked an eyebrow at him.
The Doctor shook his head. “No way, Rose. I want it to be a surprise.”
Rose frowned. “But I want to know.” She was whining and he knew what that meant: if she didn’t get her way, she’d be miserable to put up with. He’d been making sure that she got everything she wanted for the last few months; it made his life easier, and besides, if she had to go through the pain of carrying their baby, then she deserved to have what she wanted.
But he didn’t want to know. He turned to the midwife and sonographer. “Could we have a moment?” he asked. They nodded and discreetly left.
Once they were alone, he turned back to Rose, trying to gather his thoughts before he plead his case.
“What’s this all about?” she asked. “I want to know the sex of the baby.” She stuck her bottom lip out petulantly, and if he hadn’t seen that look of hers far too much in the recent past, he might have thought it was cute.
“Rose,” he said, his voice calm. “You know that I’ve done this before, right?”
Her brow wrinkled. Although he’d finally opened up to her about his feelings for her and everything he went through after she was gone, they hadn’t talked much about his life before the Time War. “I remember you saying once that you had children,” she offered tentatively.
The Doctor nodded. “Yes. It was a very long time ago. And it was much different, on my planet. I wasn’t really involved. And from before the babies were conceived, loomed, we knew everything about them. Hair colour, eye colour, IQ, sex. We even knew how tall they would grow up to be.”
Realisation dawned in her eyes. “You like not knowing about this one then,” she said, placing a hand on her rounded belly.
“Yes,” he said, taking her free hand in his. “I’ve never experienced it like this. The last time, it didn’t feel real. But this,” he placed their hands over her belly, “this feels real. It’s perfect. We can find out early on the next one Rose, I promise. But please, let this one be a surprise.”
Her eyes were shimmering but she gave him a small smile and lifted his hand to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “Absolutely,” she said. “I want this to be everything you want it to be, love.”
He nodded and wiped at his eyes, then rested his head on her abdomen. “Thank you, Rose,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Thank you so much. I know I say it all the time, but you have no idea what this means for me.”
“Or me,” she said quietly. “I never thought that you’d want this with me.”
He pulled back from her, his eyes wide. “I always wanted this with you. Even before. I just didn’t know how then. But now I can give you everything I have, can show you every day how much I love you.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting hers for a sweet kiss. “This is the life I’ve always wanted.”
She kissed him again. “Me too,” she agreed.
~o~
It was the middle of the night and the Doctor couldn’t sleep. He’d lain down with Rose hours before, intermittently kissing her and whispering stories to the baby until she drifted off. He’d waited for his own sleep to come, calmly turning from first his right side, then his left, even his stomach, but there was nothing. He wasn’t worried and nothing was bothering him. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day and he wasn’t particularly excited. Still, he couldn’t sleep.
He had nights like these from time to time. When he’d first arrived in this universe, newly human, enamoured with Rose Tyler, equal parts afraid and excited for what each new day would bring, he’d had so much trouble sleeping. But with Rose’s help and the passage of time, he got used to his new life and he managed to calm down enough to sleep. Nightly insomnia turned to weekly insomnia turned to monthly insomnia. It was still annoying when he couldn’t sleep, but he could handle it.
Afraid he’d wake Rose with his tossing and turning, he got up, careful not to disturb the duvet too much. He’d learned that if he lifted it too high, she’d feel the cold air and wake up. He’d learned the hard way that interrupting Rose Tyler’s sleep was never a good thing. Well, mostly never.
He made his way to the kitchen, looking for a late night snack, but nothing looked interesting. He’d already had biscuits that evening and Rose had eaten the last of the crisps. He could always make a sandwich, but upon further reflection, he realised he wasn’t hungry enough to make the effort.
He wandered around the living room. None of his books looked interesting and there was nothing on telly. Some nights, he’d pull out his work stuff and get some things done, enabling himself to come home early the next day, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Before he even realised what he was doing, he found himself walking toward the nursery, pushing the door open and letting himself in. They’d painted the walls a bright cheerful green, planning to decorate with either blue or pink, depending on who won the bet.
Smiling softly to himself, he walked around the room. Although the baby wasn’t there yet, the room already felt like home. As his eyes landed on the dark wooden crib, the changing table, the chest of drawers, the rocker, his mind was flooded with images of everything that would happen in this room.
He could see Rose, sitting at the chair, feeding their little girl. She’d watch the baby and the baby’s hand would reach up, curling her tiny fingers in Rose’s hair. He’d watch from the doorway, and once the baby was finished, he’d take her from Rose and gently lay her down in the bed. He’d pass his hand over her forehead, whispering his love.
He could see himself, standing at the changing table, putting a clean nappy on the baby. He’d talk to her in a silly voice and she’d giggle, delighted with how clever her daddy could be. He’d lift her up and hold her close, kissing both of her cheeks as she continued to giggle. Rose would come in and wrap the two of them in a hug, and he and the baby both would sigh at the presence of the woman they both thought of as home.
Crossing the room, he pulled out one of the white babygros he’d bought the week before. He held it, feeling how soft it was, breathing it in; it already smelled like them, like their home because Rose had washed them before putting them away in the chest. He marvelled at the size of it, barely larger than his hand, and couldn’t believe that their baby would be that tiny.
How could he protect something that tiny? Sure, he’d saved entire civilizations, but they weren’t so small, so helpless. They didn’t depend on him for everything the way this baby would. What if he failed her?
Feeling overwhelmed with the joy and excitement of it all, he sank down into the rocking chair, the babygro still clutched in his fist. He took a few deep breaths, telling himself that what he was feeling was normal. All fathers had that moment where they panicked, sick with worry that they wouldn’t be enough for their child. After a few moments, his grip on the babygro loosened and he spread it out over his leg. His finger stroked over the black letters on the front. Thursday. He’d bought one for every day of the week. He’d thought they were hilarious; Rose thought they were adorable. He smiled. He couldn’t wait to see his baby in them, and planned to put her in the wrong days, just to confuse people.
He rocked the chair slowly back and forth. He’d hold the baby here too, her little head resting on his shoulder as he soothed her to sleep. He was just trying to decide which would be the best lullaby when he heard Rose cry out his name.
He leaped from the chair, babygro falling to the floor as he ran to their bedroom. His heart felt like it was racing out of his chest. He’d thought he was panicking a few moments ago, but that was nothing compared to the agony he felt as he raced down the hallway. He threw the door open to find Rose sitting up in bed, her hands cradling her belly. She was smiling at him.
“He’s moving,” she said, beaming up at him.
He crossed the room in two long strides, his joy so great he couldn’t be bothered with correcting her about the sex. Kneeling on the bed next to her, his hands hovering over her belly, over his baby, he asked her, “where?”
“Here,” she said, taking his hand and putting along the right side, just below her belly button. He shifted closer and together they waited, neither of them speaking.
After a few moments that felt more like an eternity, he felt a little nudge under his palm. Grinning up at Rose, he wiggled his fingers as he felt it again. “Is that her?” he asked.
Rose nodded. “He’s real, Doctor. And he’s making his presence known.”
At a loss for words, the Doctor could only lean forward and press a kiss to the swell where their baby waited, waited to meet them and join their life, ready to become part of their adventure. The gentle kicks against his palm and Rose’s fingers running through his hair had him fast asleep in moments.
Trimester the Third
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Date: 2009-11-01 02:56 pm (UTC)Perfect *hearts*
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Date: 2009-11-08 07:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-01 03:32 pm (UTC)One tiny thing, I think it's right side not ride side.
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Date: 2009-11-08 08:35 pm (UTC)And I fixed the error. Thanks for the heads up!
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Date: 2009-11-01 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-01 05:21 pm (UTC)All this Rose calling the baby 'he' and the Doctor calling the baby 'she' is making me overly-excited for the last chapter - I want to find out who wins! Doc.... did you have to guilt trip Rose in to not finding out?? :D
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Date: 2009-11-08 08:38 pm (UTC)And I'm glad you're excited. Only 3 people know, as of now.
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Date: 2009-11-01 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 10:06 pm (UTC)Thank you for taking a chance on my fic.
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Date: 2009-11-01 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-02 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-03 05:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-08 10:53 pm (UTC)