N.A. The long awaited (unexpected) sequel (sort of) to 'Normal Life Doctor', but you don't really have to read 'normal life' life to understand this fic. Just know that Rose and the Doctor are married and Sigma is their son. Oh, and if you have read the last one, this start may sound somewhat familiar.
Found the inspiration for this fic a couple of years ago while researching a psychology presentation. I do not, however own the book, so i'm just going with the comical review. Therefore, i'm not sticking to a predetermined guideline so suggestions and training tips are very welcome. It made me chuckle! Hope you enjoy it. Please review.
A blue box stood alone in the middle of a large private garden in Notting Hill. A white picket fence encircled it, allowing for ten meters on each of the box's sides. As well as the box, the fence contained rose bushes and flowerpots, all manner of things that one would usually associate with a very normal garden. There was even a lone garden gnome, albeit a green alien looking gnome but a gnome none the less.
If somebody took the time to notice the big blue box, they would undoubtedly find it quite odd, for not many Notting Hill gardens would have a 1960s police box surrounded by a picket fence and makeshift garden like a proper little house. But not many people would notice the Tardis. It's not that they couldn't or even that they wouldn't. The fact is that most humans are complete idiots. Present them with something strange and unusual and they'll notice it, sure they will, but they'd be so worried that they were going insane or being needlessly irrational that they would walk right past and ignore it. They'd pretend that they couldn't see it or that they wouldn't just to make themselves feel better about the world.
Some people however, weren't completely idiotic. They accepted that there were things in the world that was beyond their understanding and they accepted that, even embraced it. If any such people had been in that Notting Hill garden at midnight, they still probably wouldn't have noticed it, for anyone who would be likely to be there at that time of night were sure to be completely drunk! It had been there for so long that the locals who did notice it would have become used to it by now anyway. Its presence wasn't anything strange at all.
It did disappear sometimes, not very often but occasionally. Those who didn't notice its existence simply saw an empty plot surrounded by the picket fence when it left. Those who did notice…well…they expected the unexpected anyway.
It could be argued though, that the strangest thing about the box known as the Tardis, was not its presence, but the sheer frustration and fatigue that seemed to constantly radiate from it. For the occupants, one of them specifically, was very, very tired. Had been for the past six months if truth be told.
Sigma was currently a snooze, dreaming happily in his cot, no doubt of dashing heroism, crazy adventures and all manner of exciting things, and clinging onto Teddy as if to protect him. Sigma was such a darling little creature, just like his dad. With dark brown hair and eyes and a rich covering of adorable freckles. Even their temperaments were the same, which does in fact mean that yes; the Doctor often acts more like a baby than his six-month-old son. So while Sigma was all warm and curled up a snooze in his cot, the senior was all warm, curled up and slightly less comfortable a snooze under the control panel in the console room of the Tardis. He however, was not clutching a Teddy. No, in fact he was clutching a sonic screwdriver tight in his fist while the torch end had found its way into his mouth where he was sucking and drooling on it. That is where the differences in the two sleeping boys ended, they both blew spit bubbles, snored and farted while in their snooze land!
So, both of her boys were asleep.
Rose was revelling in the silence of the Tardis. All that could be heard was the soft hum of the Tardis' generators as she kept the systems online and ticking over, and the quiet rustle of paper as Rose turned the pages of the book she was reading. It was very rare that she actually go a chance to read. Between Sigma and the Doctor she was practically run ragged. Each required vast amounts of attention and supervision or all manner of craziness and potentially dangerous fiascos would ensue. So it was quite nice to get some time on her own just to read for a bit.
Usually, our dear little Rose was not a great reader. Back in the old pre-Doctor days, she would never say to herself 'ooh I'm bored, I need something to do…I know…I'll read a book.' That had never, ever happened. It was always more a case of, 'ooh I'm bored, lets go down the pub.' So she was quite surprised to find herself, in such an exhausted state, happily sat by the fire in the library merrily reading away to herself.
To be fair though, it was a very comical book. It was a psychology book of sorts, summing up how much like children adult men were. The book worked on the theory that in many ways men are just larger, hairier boys with more expensive toys. It surmised that unruly men could be trained in a way, using tried and tested methods of child psychology. Rose thought it to be a very valid point really. She was however uncertain as to how much of the theories applied to the Doctor, since he was after all, not human. But still, childish…check. Hairy…check. Expensive toys…hello…Tardis!
Whatever a book like this was doing in the Tardis library Rose couldn't be sure. It didn't seem like the choice reading material of the Doctor. Maybe a previous companion brought it on board and over time it just insinuated its way onto the shelves of the library. Then again, the Tardis could be conspiring to some greater mischief and so had indeed lead Rose straight to the book, no doubt looking for some amusing hilarity to come from it.
Rose was pondering this when the Doctor unexpectedly came walking into the library jiggling their very grumpy looking infant in his arms. She put down the book, sure to stash it out of the way under a cushion where it wouldn't be seen.
"Hey, I thought you two were asleep?"
"He was" said the Doctor looking affronted, "I most certainly was not. My quite frankly superior biology ensures that I don't need sleep. Sleep is for the weak, and the young."
Rose grinned at his superiority complex. He was so adorably misguided!
"He started wailing and he woke me…uh, I mean…he made me jump and I banged my head and it hurts and now he's grumpy and I'm grumpy and…"
Rose listened to this tirade politely, secretly amused at how much of a baby the Doctor was about being woken up.
"He's just hungry I expect, give him here."
The Doctor complied and handed the little bundle over to Rose before sulkily dropping himself onto one of the other chairs. He pouted moodily at the child in Rose's arms. He was indeed usually a proud and devoted father…he just didn't like being woken…sorry…made to jump and hit his head!
Rose dutifully opened up her shirt, unclipped the fastening on her maternity bra and allowed her son to attach himself to her nipple. He'd be coming off the breast soon. It was bloody knackering having to have her boobs at the beck and call of a child with all the needs and whims that were standard for its age group.
"How come he gets unfettered access? Since you've had him I haven't been allowed to play with those. Why don't I get a turn?"
"Because Doctor, you are old enough and big enough to feed yourself."
"Who said anything about feeding…I just want to play every so often is all."
"Doctor!" warned Rose.
They lapsed back into silence, the only sounds to be heard were the gentle hum of the Tardis and the distinct suckling noise of the infant attached to Rose's teat. Said infant, was happily wiggling his toes, clasping and unclasping his podgy little fingers and generally enjoying his position in life. He turned his eyes at his Daddy Doctor and gave him a cheeky little smile around the nipple still safely secured in his mouth.
"Rose he's gloating…tell him to stop."
God, such a child that man. Maybe this was why the Tardis let her find that book.
Maybe it was a hint.