Kicking the TARDIS door shut behind him with one trainer-clad foot, the Doctor juggled his grocery bags with a hum and a skip. This was so easy. All he had to do was be a slave to pregnancy hormones, and he'd survive this whole thing. He had pickles, hard-boiled eggs, mint ice cream, chocolate ice cream, those cake thingies with the white stuff in the middle, wheat crackers and pressurized cheese in a can, which were today's cravings.

Two more months to go, and this whole thing had been a breeze, from his end. When he was commanded to do something, he obeyed, and everything worked out just fine. One would think that he was the whipped-est Time Lord on the block, but really he was just scared of getting punched in the face again, like that one time, when he was ordered to produce two doughnuts and orange juice to dunk it. It was a tad Pavlovian, but he figured he had some decent incentive to simply scurry off after the craving of the moment.

Wriggling out of his coat, he tossed the long brown trench over a railing, then grabbed up his bags again, continuing on to his destination.

He was a supportive, sensitive guy, he could do this whole dad thing. No absentee father-ism for him, nosiree. He was a full and active participant in the entire baby-growing process. Really, when he thought about it, he was taking this whole pregnancy thing well.

Rose was taking it well too. She understood his excitement with the whole making more Time Lords thing, and she was supportive in turn of HIM, and his enthusiasm. Jackie still didn't know. Rose didn't think it was any of her mother's business (though Jackie was going to notice a tag-along eventually) and the Doctor just figured it would all be too complicated to explain to Rose's nut loaf of a mother.

Mickey had laughed, when Rose had told him. Well, good for Ricky the Idiot, he thought it was so damned funny. This was important stuff. This was the first of a new generation of Time Lords. It was all blessed and sacred and stuff and Mickey wasn't going to ruin it for him by making fun of the Doctor for accidentally getting someone in a family way. Sacred event, dammit!

Putting the ice cream away, he uncapped the smoked cheddar flavoured cheese substance and squirted a bit down his throat before grabbing the box of crackers to give as an offering to placate the insatiable hunger of 'the beast.'

Passing by Rose's room, he saw her folding some clothes and putting them in a drawer, including a naughty little sleep number that showed far more than it hid. He stopped in the doorway and growled, wiggling his eyebrows.

Spinning around, Rose wagged a finger at him. "Stop that, you."

The Doctor shrugged. "What can I say? I'm enjoying this whole repopulating the Time Lords thing."

Shoving the red bits of cloth into her top drawer with a bit of a blush and mischievous grin, Rose looked at the can of cheese. "Another food run?"

Grinning, the Doctor squirted more cheesey substance into his mouth. "Yeah. Held off till two in the afternoon, that's an all-time new record. Better get this to the mighty evil one before I get my had bitten off and eggs laid in the stump of my neck or something," he chuckled.

Rose abandoned the laundry and crossed the room, pilfering some crackers. "Have fun with that." Shoving one into her mouth, she chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Did you get any more chocolate bars?"

Instantly the Doctor's eyebrows shot downward. "I didn't know those were on today's list of demands. I guess I'll go back out, then, after I make my sacrificial offering at the altar of parenthood."

Nudging him with her elbow, Rose giggled. "No, for me, silly. It's about to be that time of the month."

His shoulders slumped in fake exasperation. Truth was—he was loving ever minute of this mock domesticity that had befallen his ship. "Everybody's determined to run me ragged. And kill me with hormones."

The Doctor's young companion told him not to worry about it, she'd pop out when she had a chance, and if they were going to be parked here for a while, she really ought to stop in and say hello to her mother, maybe get her roots done. That sounded like a good way to spend an afternoon, he supposed. It wasn't like he had anything else on the agenda right now.

As he was turning to leave, she slapped his bum sharply and gave him a wink. "And hurry up with that. It's ALMOST that time of the month, but not quite. I have a bit of a…need that isn't being met with chocolate, so it had better get met with something else."

Laughing as he made his way down the hall, he called behind him, "the things I do for my companions…"

Rose's snicker echoed off the metallic walls of the ship, following as he made his way to the study. "What a tragic life you lead, Doctor."

Tragic indeed, he thought, as he entered the study and crossed toward the fire, shaking the box of crackers. "Gotcha something. How're you feeling?"

Bare feet slapped against the wooden floor and a beach ball-like stomach spun into full view. A hand gestured to the enormous tummy. "How do I look like I'm doing, Doc?"

Handing over the can of cheese and the box, the Doctor rubbed Jack's arm. "You look glowing and radiant, and never better in all the time I've ever known you," he said with practiced sincerity. Rose had fed him about half a dozen lines that might work, and so far they usually got him out of trouble.

Padding away from the fireplace and to the high-backed leather sofa, Jack carefully sat down, then squirted cheese into his mouth, shoving in a few crackers and chewing thoroughly. Thoughtful, he licked the roof of his mouth a few times. "What about the ice cream?"

The Doctor patted him on the leg. "Kitchen. I didn't want it to melt." Because then Jack would really be testy. "I can get you a bowl. Whichever kind you want."

Jack batted his eyelashes at the Doctor, rubbing his bump. "I think Franklin wants mint. With chedder fish on top."

Placing a hand next to Jack's he felt something move. "You mean Warenalspatyixalotravorien."

Jack's cheek twitched and his eyes twinkled playfully. "New generation of Gallifreyan—no more stupid names."

Knowing better than to push his luck, the Doctor simply gave Jack's arm a squeeze and promised he'd return soon with ice cream topped with fish crackers.

Grinning like an idiot, he darted back towards the kitchen, in total contentment with his world. Maybe they could get a house, with a picket fence and a mortgage, and play at being a normal family for a while. That might be fun. He could mow the lawn and fill the garden with plastic flamingos. Wouldn't that be a hoot? Or whatever sound flamingos made. He'd have to look that up.

Scooping ice cream as quickly as possible, the Doctor tried to hold back his glee. He needed to get this to his man-mummy angel as quickly as possible—he had a date with a devil in a red nighty.

THE END.