Repercussions (52-55 of 55)
Jun. 1st, 2008 10:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberfocus
Banner by Megz33
Chapter Fifty-two: Showing
The next six weeks seem to fly by. The Doctor arranges with U.N.I.T. for Martha to sit her exams though nearly every university in the U.K. has been shut down since the first Cybermen invasion. Brilliant as she is, Martha passes with flying colors and achieves the rank of doctor.
U.N.I.T. also gives her a crash course on alien pregnancy and every bit of physiological data they have on the Doctor. She makes the decision to travel with us and be my personal medical attendant through the duration of the pregnancy. She also agrees to be the maid of honor at my wedding.
When we arrive back in London, my mum had taken one look at my hair and shorn it close to my head. It hasgrown out about an inch now into what would have been a very modern style before the invasion but what I now simply refer to as Cyberman chic. The Doctor has managed to hide his own burn with the overabundance of his thick mane.
The wedding date is rapidly approaching and I am anxious for it to arrive for this morning I have noticed a swelling of my belly, one that makes it impossible to do up my favorite jeans. I curse and the Doctor looks up at me from the bed where he has been watching me dress.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asks with mild curiosity.
“I’m getting fat,” I mutter as I slide the jeans back down my legs. Instantly he is behind me, raising my shirt and studying my abdomen in the mirror. His hands slide across it possessively as he feels the beginning of the baby bump and he smiles at me. Then his eyes darken and he pulls me tightly up against his groin. His arousal is obvious.
“You’re beautiful, mother of my child,” he tells me. Then he turns me around and backs me up against the mirror, his mouth coming down hard on mine. He kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m the air he needs desperately to survive. And maybe I am.
His hands drop to my hips and he is lifting me. With a startled, “Oh,” I rise up the mirror and he holds me there with one hand and the weight of his body while he frees himself with the other. His fingers tug insistently at my knickers until he tears them right off, and then he is testing my readiness for him. I am always ready for him and his aggression this time has been my undoing.
He slides his length up into me with a cry of triumph and though I thought I was in for a fast and furious pounding, he instead takes me slowly with strong forceful thrusts ten seconds apart. The pace is driving me insane and I want him to go faster but the sensations bursting through me keep my mouth from demanding this.
This is different, unique and it still drives me towards completion. His eyes lock on mine as I rise and fall with his movements. I love this man so much. He is my heart. He is my life. I will never let him go. I tell him this with my eyes because my mouth is unable to receive any signals from my brain that might form words.
At last the Doctor’s control snaps and he is carrying me away from the wall and dropping down onto the bed, my legs still firmly wrapped around him and then he is plowing into me, taking me in a way that clearly states I belong to him. I rise up to meet him just as forcefully, proclaiming with my body that he belongs to me as much as I do to him.
He increases the pace, one hand snaking between us to hurry my arrival, and he drives towards completion. “Rose, Rose, please,” he begs and I can feel from his emotions that he’s too close and that he won’t be able to wait for me if I don’t fall soon.
“Go on,” I manage and he lets himself go, so furious in his possession I think I may have issues with walking when he is done.
“I love you!” he screams. His explosion into me finally triggers me and I sink into the bliss that only he can ever offer me, in a slow steady pulse that seems to last for days and carries me on wings to the ceiling.
He collapses on top of my body and I hold him tightly, stroking his head as he nuzzles my chest. “I love you, my Doctor,” I tell him.
He rolls us over in the bed so that my weight rests on top of him. I can still feel him pulsing inside me and incredibly he has not softened quite yet. With a grin I push away from him and sit atop him. I whip off my shirt and bra and give him an evil grin. Slowly I begin to move in soft little circles that cause a surprised O to appear on his lips before he thrusts his head back into the pillows and falls into the sensations.
His hands creep up to rest against my belly and he conveys to me how sexy he finds me as I’m beginning to show my pregnancy. His love and lust soak through the link between us and I shift what I’m doing to figure eights. He moans and his pelvis bucks against me. I laugh. He bucks again.
But I am setting the pace this time and I take it just as slowly as he did against the wall when I finally decide to stop teasing him and get down to business. It takes time, so much time, but we have all the time in the world at this particular moment as I slide against him, the delicious friction between our two bodies building me towards a more fierce orgasm. I explode in rapture and the moment I am done convulsing against the Doctor he flips me onto my back and picks up the pace, thrusting like a mad man until he releases inside me.
He falls to the side, withdrawing from my body and pulling me tight into his side. “My life,” he says, panting.
“And mine,” I tell him. “Forever.”
Chapter Fifty-three: Wedding
I glance at myself in the mirror and try to keep tears from coming into my eyes. I have never felt as beautiful as I do today with this ridiculous haircut that has finally grown out enough to hide the last of the burn from the Cybermen laser fire and my slightly swollen belly pregnant with the Doctor’s child. I look like I am barely wearing any makeup by my standards, having been done up by a cosmetician friend of my mothers, and yet it feels right, like I have passed by my need to wear it as an armor against the outside world.
Martha is behind me doing up the last few buttons on the back of my wedding gown, its empire waist will neatly conceal the baby bump unless I press my fingers down against the fabric to reveal it as I’m doing now. I stroke gently against what the Doctor has now confirmed is our daughter. I dream of her nightly, a little girl with big brown eyes and a messy mop of thick brown hair. She will be beautiful. With the Doctor as her father there is no way she won’t be, though he tells me it’s because I am her mother.
“Look at you,” Martha says as she rests her hands on my shoulders. “You’re stunning.” The compliment is so heartfelt that it warms my heart even as I blush.
A knock on the door rings out and I say, “Who is it?”
“It’s Mum, sweetheart. Are you decent? Can I come in?” she asks.
“Yes, of course,” I call out.
My mum hurriedly bustles into the room with a large bag over one arm. “I have your veil right here, Rose. Let’s get it on you.” She pulls the bag off the hanger and detaches the veil, carefully fitting the circlet of faux baby’s breath, seed pearls and crystals with its knee length layers of gauze to my head with little rhinestone covered bobby pins. She takes a step backwards to look at me and her eyes start to fill with tears.
“No, Mum, don’t you dare. If you start crying, I’ll start and it’ll ruin my face. And I want to be beautiful for him,” I tell her.
“He’d never think you were ugly, Rose. Never in a million years, this Doctor. He loves you, loves you so much, and I…I’m so happy for the two of you,” she says. “Never doubt it. I love you.” She hugs me tightly, careful to keep her face away from my dress so she doesn’t get lipstick on it. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart. The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” I tell her and turn back to look in the mirror one more time. For the first time in my life I believe my mother when she tells me that I look lovely. But it’s the shine in my eyes and the curve of my smile that let me know it’s true.
Another knock on the door and it’s my father this time. “Rose, they’re ready for us,” he says. The three of us move to join my father, who embraces me tightly. “I love you, sweetheart,” he says. “Make sure he takes care of you.” My father pulls back and then rests a hand lightly on my stomach. “And this little one, too.”
“You know?” I whisper.
“I’m not that blind, Rose,” he says. “And I know now, the Doctor will be a good husband to you, a good father to your child. You do have my blessing. I wouldn’t be walking you down the aisle if you didn’t.” He hugs me again and then offers me his arm.
We walk to the lobby and Mickey ushers my mother to her seat and then Martha hands me my bouquet and picks up her own. Martha brushes past me in her pretty, knee-length, light turquoise dress with its sparkly sequins visible on the bodice. The soft strains of Pachobel’s Canon in D fill the church and Martha begins her walk down the aisle as my maid of honor.
Then it is my turn and my father and I step into the archway. All eyes turn towards me and I hear a few gasps of amazement. I smile but my eyes turn only to the man waiting for me beside the altar. His eyes shine and I think I see the hint of tears there for a moment before his broad grin washes over his face. I glance to the right and see Brigadier-General John Benton standing up for the Doctor as his best man. Where my childhood minister should have been had he not died in the last of the Cybermen attacks stands the smirking Captain Jack Harkness, who has managed to get himself ordained in time for the wedding.
All the men look handsome but no one is as handsome as my Doctor dressed in a dark blue tie and cummerbund, and a black tuxedo. I’d been surprised that he’d been willing to divest himself of his usual pinstripes until I’d gotten a look at the tux the night before and noticed almost invisible little lines running down the length of it. It had made me smile. He is so incredibly gorgeous, this man I am about to marry.
As Dad escorts me up the aisle we pause at my mother and she reaches out and gives me one last hug before Dad finishes taking me up to the Doctor. He hands me over to my future husband and then steps back to be with my mother.
The wedding itself is a blur. I am aware of the vows and lighting an eternity candle, though the Doctor had fought that part a bit, saying that eternity is impossible even for him until I’d explained that it is a longing for eternity together and then he’d been quite amenable. I even remember the lines in the little poem about “This day I will marry my friend, the one I laugh with, live for, dream with, love.” But little else.
I am glad someone is filming and someone else is taking pictures. The only thing I can think of is that I am now kissing the Doctor in front of all these people my mother had insisted we invite. And then Jack pronounces us husband and wife. Doctor and Mrs. John Theta Tyler-Smith. And we are supposed to be walking down the aisle once more and down to the reception in the basement only the Doctor can’t resist pulling me back into his arms one more time and snogging me senseless to the cheers of the guests. And I let him. Because I'm that kind of wife.
Chapter Fifty-four: Honeymoon
Every single moment of the reception goes as it was planned. The universe has rolled back Murphy’s Law for one day, my wedding day, and it is perfect. The Doctor and I dance until dawn as if there are no other people in the room and for us there are not. There is simply him and me and our arms around each other and on occasion the little fluttering in my abdomen that reminds me there is a third party dancing along with us.
As the sun rises and the band begins packing we linger there on the center of the ballroom floor. “My beautiful wife,” the Doctor says to me and one single tear overflows and slides down the left side of his face. I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb, then kiss the trail lightly.
“My gorgeous husband,” I tell him. And then it is time to say our good-byes to those who waited us out. There are hugs and kisses from Mum and Dad and Jack and Martha. Brigadier General Benton has long since made his farewells. At last the Doctor and I make our way out to the TARDIS and he whisks me away to the ocean planet of Divo for our honeymoon.
It is gorgeous there and for once there is no threat of getting into trouble and running for our lives. We rent a little bungalow on a private island and make love on the beach. It’s not quite as romantic as it sounds with sand getting into places sand has no business being in, but next time we bring a blanket with us and the experience is much improved.
We simply talk in a way we’ve seldom had the chance to before and he tells me of his childhood and growing up and attending the academy where he learned how to become a Time Lord. He tells me about stealing the TARDIS and running off with his granddaughter Susan and how they travelled the galaxy together for a couple of years. I tell him about growing up on the estate, Dad’s inventions that sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, Mum’s thriving business that carried us through so many of the bad times.
And when the time comes, he tells me about his first Rose and I tell him about my other Doctor. It’s odd at first, but as we tell our stories it becomes a relief, a lifting of a burden that both of us have been keeping up until now, both afraid of what the other might think because we did not meet each other first. And it becomes clear to both of us that fate, or Rose Plus and Bad Wolf, have done us a favor, put us together for a reason; that we are as meant to be as she is with her own Doctor. We offer silent thanks to her in whatever universe she now inhabits.
We spend a month on Divo enjoying the idyll, but I know the Doctor is becoming antsy to resume our travels. It is on the morning we decide to head back to Earth to collect Jack and Martha that the baby kicks for the first time. We have just made love and the Doctor’s hand is splayed across my belly when my stomach jumps.
I gasp and laugh in disbelief and the Doctor is rolling me onto my back and demanding, “Do it again!” We watch as my stomach moves with the contact of some interior hand or foot and the Doctor covers the spot with his hand, willing her to kick again. She does a few more times before settling back down and resuming her slumber.
“Our baby,” he says over and over again to the point where I wonder if he’s gone stupid or just forgotten any other words in the English language.
“Well, what else did you think was in there?” I finally ask with thinly veiled amusement. “A watermelon?”
“It’s just…we’re going to be parents, Rose. Parents. With a capital P. And we aren’t even ready. Oh, there’re so many things we have to get, a nursery to set up, food--.”
“Doctor, I think the food comes from these things that you’re so fond of,” I say drawing his attention to my breasts.
“What, these?” he asks in a teasing way and then he touches them in a teasing way, and pretty soon there’s no more teasing, just soft moans and gasps and sweaty bodies joining together again.
Afterwards as we lay sated together I tell him that we will do just fine as parents and as people decorating a nursery and that he is not to worry. There is still plenty of time to get ready for the baby. Twenty weeks if the gestation is a human one, longer if it’s Gallifreyan. This seems to calm him before he goes off on another tangent.
With reluctance we move from the bungalow’s bed and pack. My only souvenir is a string of one inch shells that we collected on our daily beach walks and that I had strung on a strong piece of fishing line and tied into a necklace. We say good-bye to our little island and return to the TARDIS.
The coordinates are entered and our return journey begins. It is just as well. I have outgrown most of my clothes and the TARDIS is somewhat reluctant or perhaps just unable to provide me with maternity wear. I wonder if there is any way I can talk the Doctor into a return trip to Calixis. As it happens, I can’t, but he does allow a detour to take me to a little boutique on the planet Capricious, located between the planets Avarice and Envy. I find some lovely whimsical outfits for both myself and our unborn daughter and thus attired in well-fitting clothing once again we finally make our way back to Earth.
Chapter Fifty-five: Epilogue--Birth
The pregnancy turns out to be the length of a human one and I am quite grateful as the days wind down. It is quite clear that the majority of our daughter’s DNA is Gallifreyan from the way it taxes my system. I am just grateful that I don’t have to go the fifteen months he had feared it might be. There is no guarantee how long any future pregnancy would take, either. If she has any siblings they could take nine months, or fifteen, or anything in between depending on how their genetics hybridized. But nine is definitely enough for a first pregnancy.
The morning that the Doctor predicted for the arrival of the baby brings with it cramps and my water breaking and the next thing I know, I’m almost fully dilated and the Doctor is helping me into an oversized bathtub for the water birth we had decided on. Martha steps in wearing a smart red tank suit, but the Doctor is so excited he doesn’t even bother to change and climbs in fully clothed. Jack anxiously paces the hallway outside the bathing chamber.
The buoyancy of the water is wonderful for my aching muscles. The Doctor holds me from behind, his arms just under my breasts and Martha prepares to catch the baby as push by push she begins to emerge. It is quick and I am surprised, for Mum has gone on and on about how painful birth is and how she was in labor with me for hours and hours and hours. Perhaps it is because she is so small, only weighing in at six pounds.
Martha cleans her up while the Doctor helps me from the bath and cleans me up, then helps me into proper nightclothes and settles me in the bed. Martha comes over to me and places the tiny little bundle in my arms. “Hello, little girl,” I say as my eyes fall over her beautiful little face.
“Hello,” repeats the Doctor. He runs his finger through her thick, full head of brown hair and we both giggle when it stands up on end just like his does. “Hello, Delta Rebecca Tyler-Smith.”
I grin at him as the name settles across our daughter. It is perfect, beautiful, just like her. He leans down to kiss me and I offer up a silent thank you to Rose Plus and the Bad Wolf. Without them I would be dead. Instead they gave me a second chance, with a second Doctor, and together, well, just look at what we made with it. We made Delta. And she’s worth it all.
The wedding date is rapidly approaching and I am anxious for it to arrive for this morning I have noticed a swelling of my belly, one that makes it impossible to do up my favorite jeans. I curse and the Doctor looks up at me from the bed where he has been watching me dress.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asks with mild curiosity.
“I’m getting fat,” I mutter as I slide the jeans back down my legs. Instantly he is behind me, raising my shirt and studying my abdomen in the mirror. His hands slide across it possessively as he feels the beginning of the baby bump and he smiles at me. Then his eyes darken and he pulls me tightly up against his groin. His arousal is obvious.
“You’re beautiful, mother of my child,” he tells me. Then he turns me around and backs me up against the mirror, his mouth coming down hard on mine. He kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m the air he needs desperately to survive. And maybe I am.
His hands drop to my hips and he is lifting me. With a startled, “Oh,” I rise up the mirror and he holds me there with one hand and the weight of his body while he frees himself with the other. His fingers tug insistently at my knickers until he tears them right off, and then he is testing my readiness for him. I am always ready for him and his aggression this time has been my undoing.
He slides his length up into me with a cry of triumph and though I thought I was in for a fast and furious pounding, he instead takes me slowly with strong forceful thrusts ten seconds apart. The pace is driving me insane and I want him to go faster but the sensations bursting through me keep my mouth from demanding this.
This is different, unique and it still drives me towards completion. His eyes lock on mine as I rise and fall with his movements. I love this man so much. He is my heart. He is my life. I will never let him go. I tell him this with my eyes because my mouth is unable to receive any signals from my brain that might form words.
At last the Doctor’s control snaps and he is carrying me away from the wall and dropping down onto the bed, my legs still firmly wrapped around him and then he is plowing into me, taking me in a way that clearly states I belong to him. I rise up to meet him just as forcefully, proclaiming with my body that he belongs to me as much as I do to him.
He increases the pace, one hand snaking between us to hurry my arrival, and he drives towards completion. “Rose, Rose, please,” he begs and I can feel from his emotions that he’s too close and that he won’t be able to wait for me if I don’t fall soon.
“Go on,” I manage and he lets himself go, so furious in his possession I think I may have issues with walking when he is done.
“I love you!” he screams. His explosion into me finally triggers me and I sink into the bliss that only he can ever offer me, in a slow steady pulse that seems to last for days and carries me on wings to the ceiling.
He collapses on top of my body and I hold him tightly, stroking his head as he nuzzles my chest. “I love you, my Doctor,” I tell him.
He rolls us over in the bed so that my weight rests on top of him. I can still feel him pulsing inside me and incredibly he has not softened quite yet. With a grin I push away from him and sit atop him. I whip off my shirt and bra and give him an evil grin. Slowly I begin to move in soft little circles that cause a surprised O to appear on his lips before he thrusts his head back into the pillows and falls into the sensations.
His hands creep up to rest against my belly and he conveys to me how sexy he finds me as I’m beginning to show my pregnancy. His love and lust soak through the link between us and I shift what I’m doing to figure eights. He moans and his pelvis bucks against me. I laugh. He bucks again.
But I am setting the pace this time and I take it just as slowly as he did against the wall when I finally decide to stop teasing him and get down to business. It takes time, so much time, but we have all the time in the world at this particular moment as I slide against him, the delicious friction between our two bodies building me towards a more fierce orgasm. I explode in rapture and the moment I am done convulsing against the Doctor he flips me onto my back and picks up the pace, thrusting like a mad man until he releases inside me.
He falls to the side, withdrawing from my body and pulling me tight into his side. “My life,” he says, panting.
“And mine,” I tell him. “Forever.”
Chapter Fifty-three: Wedding
I glance at myself in the mirror and try to keep tears from coming into my eyes. I have never felt as beautiful as I do today with this ridiculous haircut that has finally grown out enough to hide the last of the burn from the Cybermen laser fire and my slightly swollen belly pregnant with the Doctor’s child. I look like I am barely wearing any makeup by my standards, having been done up by a cosmetician friend of my mothers, and yet it feels right, like I have passed by my need to wear it as an armor against the outside world.
Martha is behind me doing up the last few buttons on the back of my wedding gown, its empire waist will neatly conceal the baby bump unless I press my fingers down against the fabric to reveal it as I’m doing now. I stroke gently against what the Doctor has now confirmed is our daughter. I dream of her nightly, a little girl with big brown eyes and a messy mop of thick brown hair. She will be beautiful. With the Doctor as her father there is no way she won’t be, though he tells me it’s because I am her mother.
“Look at you,” Martha says as she rests her hands on my shoulders. “You’re stunning.” The compliment is so heartfelt that it warms my heart even as I blush.
A knock on the door rings out and I say, “Who is it?”
“It’s Mum, sweetheart. Are you decent? Can I come in?” she asks.
“Yes, of course,” I call out.
My mum hurriedly bustles into the room with a large bag over one arm. “I have your veil right here, Rose. Let’s get it on you.” She pulls the bag off the hanger and detaches the veil, carefully fitting the circlet of faux baby’s breath, seed pearls and crystals with its knee length layers of gauze to my head with little rhinestone covered bobby pins. She takes a step backwards to look at me and her eyes start to fill with tears.
“No, Mum, don’t you dare. If you start crying, I’ll start and it’ll ruin my face. And I want to be beautiful for him,” I tell her.
“He’d never think you were ugly, Rose. Never in a million years, this Doctor. He loves you, loves you so much, and I…I’m so happy for the two of you,” she says. “Never doubt it. I love you.” She hugs me tightly, careful to keep her face away from my dress so she doesn’t get lipstick on it. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart. The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” I tell her and turn back to look in the mirror one more time. For the first time in my life I believe my mother when she tells me that I look lovely. But it’s the shine in my eyes and the curve of my smile that let me know it’s true.
Another knock on the door and it’s my father this time. “Rose, they’re ready for us,” he says. The three of us move to join my father, who embraces me tightly. “I love you, sweetheart,” he says. “Make sure he takes care of you.” My father pulls back and then rests a hand lightly on my stomach. “And this little one, too.”
“You know?” I whisper.
“I’m not that blind, Rose,” he says. “And I know now, the Doctor will be a good husband to you, a good father to your child. You do have my blessing. I wouldn’t be walking you down the aisle if you didn’t.” He hugs me again and then offers me his arm.
We walk to the lobby and Mickey ushers my mother to her seat and then Martha hands me my bouquet and picks up her own. Martha brushes past me in her pretty, knee-length, light turquoise dress with its sparkly sequins visible on the bodice. The soft strains of Pachobel’s Canon in D fill the church and Martha begins her walk down the aisle as my maid of honor.
Then it is my turn and my father and I step into the archway. All eyes turn towards me and I hear a few gasps of amazement. I smile but my eyes turn only to the man waiting for me beside the altar. His eyes shine and I think I see the hint of tears there for a moment before his broad grin washes over his face. I glance to the right and see Brigadier-General John Benton standing up for the Doctor as his best man. Where my childhood minister should have been had he not died in the last of the Cybermen attacks stands the smirking Captain Jack Harkness, who has managed to get himself ordained in time for the wedding.
All the men look handsome but no one is as handsome as my Doctor dressed in a dark blue tie and cummerbund, and a black tuxedo. I’d been surprised that he’d been willing to divest himself of his usual pinstripes until I’d gotten a look at the tux the night before and noticed almost invisible little lines running down the length of it. It had made me smile. He is so incredibly gorgeous, this man I am about to marry.
As Dad escorts me up the aisle we pause at my mother and she reaches out and gives me one last hug before Dad finishes taking me up to the Doctor. He hands me over to my future husband and then steps back to be with my mother.
The wedding itself is a blur. I am aware of the vows and lighting an eternity candle, though the Doctor had fought that part a bit, saying that eternity is impossible even for him until I’d explained that it is a longing for eternity together and then he’d been quite amenable. I even remember the lines in the little poem about “This day I will marry my friend, the one I laugh with, live for, dream with, love.” But little else.
I am glad someone is filming and someone else is taking pictures. The only thing I can think of is that I am now kissing the Doctor in front of all these people my mother had insisted we invite. And then Jack pronounces us husband and wife. Doctor and Mrs. John Theta Tyler-Smith. And we are supposed to be walking down the aisle once more and down to the reception in the basement only the Doctor can’t resist pulling me back into his arms one more time and snogging me senseless to the cheers of the guests. And I let him. Because I'm that kind of wife.
Chapter Fifty-four: Honeymoon
Every single moment of the reception goes as it was planned. The universe has rolled back Murphy’s Law for one day, my wedding day, and it is perfect. The Doctor and I dance until dawn as if there are no other people in the room and for us there are not. There is simply him and me and our arms around each other and on occasion the little fluttering in my abdomen that reminds me there is a third party dancing along with us.
As the sun rises and the band begins packing we linger there on the center of the ballroom floor. “My beautiful wife,” the Doctor says to me and one single tear overflows and slides down the left side of his face. I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb, then kiss the trail lightly.
“My gorgeous husband,” I tell him. And then it is time to say our good-byes to those who waited us out. There are hugs and kisses from Mum and Dad and Jack and Martha. Brigadier General Benton has long since made his farewells. At last the Doctor and I make our way out to the TARDIS and he whisks me away to the ocean planet of Divo for our honeymoon.
It is gorgeous there and for once there is no threat of getting into trouble and running for our lives. We rent a little bungalow on a private island and make love on the beach. It’s not quite as romantic as it sounds with sand getting into places sand has no business being in, but next time we bring a blanket with us and the experience is much improved.
We simply talk in a way we’ve seldom had the chance to before and he tells me of his childhood and growing up and attending the academy where he learned how to become a Time Lord. He tells me about stealing the TARDIS and running off with his granddaughter Susan and how they travelled the galaxy together for a couple of years. I tell him about growing up on the estate, Dad’s inventions that sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, Mum’s thriving business that carried us through so many of the bad times.
And when the time comes, he tells me about his first Rose and I tell him about my other Doctor. It’s odd at first, but as we tell our stories it becomes a relief, a lifting of a burden that both of us have been keeping up until now, both afraid of what the other might think because we did not meet each other first. And it becomes clear to both of us that fate, or Rose Plus and Bad Wolf, have done us a favor, put us together for a reason; that we are as meant to be as she is with her own Doctor. We offer silent thanks to her in whatever universe she now inhabits.
We spend a month on Divo enjoying the idyll, but I know the Doctor is becoming antsy to resume our travels. It is on the morning we decide to head back to Earth to collect Jack and Martha that the baby kicks for the first time. We have just made love and the Doctor’s hand is splayed across my belly when my stomach jumps.
I gasp and laugh in disbelief and the Doctor is rolling me onto my back and demanding, “Do it again!” We watch as my stomach moves with the contact of some interior hand or foot and the Doctor covers the spot with his hand, willing her to kick again. She does a few more times before settling back down and resuming her slumber.
“Our baby,” he says over and over again to the point where I wonder if he’s gone stupid or just forgotten any other words in the English language.
“Well, what else did you think was in there?” I finally ask with thinly veiled amusement. “A watermelon?”
“It’s just…we’re going to be parents, Rose. Parents. With a capital P. And we aren’t even ready. Oh, there’re so many things we have to get, a nursery to set up, food--.”
“Doctor, I think the food comes from these things that you’re so fond of,” I say drawing his attention to my breasts.
“What, these?” he asks in a teasing way and then he touches them in a teasing way, and pretty soon there’s no more teasing, just soft moans and gasps and sweaty bodies joining together again.
Afterwards as we lay sated together I tell him that we will do just fine as parents and as people decorating a nursery and that he is not to worry. There is still plenty of time to get ready for the baby. Twenty weeks if the gestation is a human one, longer if it’s Gallifreyan. This seems to calm him before he goes off on another tangent.
With reluctance we move from the bungalow’s bed and pack. My only souvenir is a string of one inch shells that we collected on our daily beach walks and that I had strung on a strong piece of fishing line and tied into a necklace. We say good-bye to our little island and return to the TARDIS.
The coordinates are entered and our return journey begins. It is just as well. I have outgrown most of my clothes and the TARDIS is somewhat reluctant or perhaps just unable to provide me with maternity wear. I wonder if there is any way I can talk the Doctor into a return trip to Calixis. As it happens, I can’t, but he does allow a detour to take me to a little boutique on the planet Capricious, located between the planets Avarice and Envy. I find some lovely whimsical outfits for both myself and our unborn daughter and thus attired in well-fitting clothing once again we finally make our way back to Earth.
Chapter Fifty-five: Epilogue--Birth
The pregnancy turns out to be the length of a human one and I am quite grateful as the days wind down. It is quite clear that the majority of our daughter’s DNA is Gallifreyan from the way it taxes my system. I am just grateful that I don’t have to go the fifteen months he had feared it might be. There is no guarantee how long any future pregnancy would take, either. If she has any siblings they could take nine months, or fifteen, or anything in between depending on how their genetics hybridized. But nine is definitely enough for a first pregnancy.
The morning that the Doctor predicted for the arrival of the baby brings with it cramps and my water breaking and the next thing I know, I’m almost fully dilated and the Doctor is helping me into an oversized bathtub for the water birth we had decided on. Martha steps in wearing a smart red tank suit, but the Doctor is so excited he doesn’t even bother to change and climbs in fully clothed. Jack anxiously paces the hallway outside the bathing chamber.
The buoyancy of the water is wonderful for my aching muscles. The Doctor holds me from behind, his arms just under my breasts and Martha prepares to catch the baby as push by push she begins to emerge. It is quick and I am surprised, for Mum has gone on and on about how painful birth is and how she was in labor with me for hours and hours and hours. Perhaps it is because she is so small, only weighing in at six pounds.
Martha cleans her up while the Doctor helps me from the bath and cleans me up, then helps me into proper nightclothes and settles me in the bed. Martha comes over to me and places the tiny little bundle in my arms. “Hello, little girl,” I say as my eyes fall over her beautiful little face.
“Hello,” repeats the Doctor. He runs his finger through her thick, full head of brown hair and we both giggle when it stands up on end just like his does. “Hello, Delta Rebecca Tyler-Smith.”
I grin at him as the name settles across our daughter. It is perfect, beautiful, just like her. He leans down to kiss me and I offer up a silent thank you to Rose Plus and the Bad Wolf. Without them I would be dead. Instead they gave me a second chance, with a second Doctor, and together, well, just look at what we made with it. We made Delta. And she’s worth it all.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-06-02 06:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-06 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-03 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-06 02:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-04 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-06 02:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-11 09:36 am (UTC)I have to say, this kind of AU fic has a lot of potential. I'm really surprised that there hasn't been more of those stories. Most fics are either 9/Rose or Ten/rose and I love them. But I think that AU like Repercussions or A sky without zeppelins are very original. It's freeing because no need to follow strictly the canon while still taking it in consideration.
I always say that the doctor was oftenly wrong so why not having the Doctor, as 9 or 10 but being in his last regeneration, in a parallel universe. What would happen? Would he grow old and die, like a human? Why couldn't there be other parallel versions of the Doctor and Rose, meeting differently and living different adventures?
Oh yes, such a potential! Thanks for writing Repercussions and A sky without zeppelins, those stories are just... like nothing I have read in this fandom.