I don't own Doctor Who

Chapter 7: Three months later

The Doctor stretched his arms and legs out on the bed, groping for Rose so that he might pull her in tighter as he continued to sleep. To his dismay, however, he found the bed to be empty, and he panicked briefly before hearing a quiet cooing sound from the corner of the room.

He sat up groggily in the bed, pushing his arms as to prop himself up, and found Rose sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room, a restless bundle of baby kicking about as it finished its four-in-the-morning meal time.

The Doctor smiled at his wife who was trying without success to hush the small baby, and she sighed in exasperation.

"Stella, sweetheart, you'll wake up daddy," she whispered.

"She already has," he said, pushing himself off of the bed. The Doctor's hearts felt like they were going to explode every time he saw the two of them together. When he slept at night, which was much more often now, because Stella seemed to demand much more of his brain space and time than he originally thought was possible, he attempted to tackle the endless puzzle as to how he had suddenly, within the last few years, had become so unimaginably lucky. Every night, he failed to solve the puzzle, falling asleep as Rose's warm breath blew over his face as she slept.

Rose had regained her strength with impressive speed after the birth of Stella and had taken to motherhood with amazing finesse. Whenever the Doctor held his daughter, which was whenever Rose wasn't holding her, he gaped in general befuddlement as to how he had a daughter. He, the Doctor, The Oncoming Storm, became mush whenever he even looked at Stella. He could not understand how a man like himself who had wrought so much destruction over the Universe, who had sacrificed not only his own happiness, but the happiness of others, could be allowed to be a dad.

"How did this happen?" The Doctor said, genuinely running out of explanations as to how he became the man he was now.

"How did what happen?" Rose was hovering over Stella as she laughed and spit all over herself after she had fed her.

"How do I get you? How am I allowed to have Stella?"

"You need to stop thinking you're undeserving," Rose said, looking up at him, her smile for Stella fading as she regarded him with seriousness. "If anyone deserves this life, it's you. We've been over this. You deserve this because you love me and you love Stella. That's all you need to be deserving. Now please come over here and take your daughter, she's acting like you and she won't sit still."

He came over and scooped Stella into his arms and he pecked Rose on the cheek, making sure the peck was lingering enough to imply that later, when neither of them was holding Stella, they would pursue another, more intense kind of kissing.

Stella, though well, was still a small baby, but her hearts pumped with furious vigor and her cheeks flushed with pleasure as her father held her in his arms. She had his wild, untamable, and amazing hair. She had Rose's brown and hazel eyes, and probably her lips too, by the way they bowed delicately.

"You're as beautiful as your mum, you are." He kissed her lightly on the forehead and she yawned loudly. The Doctor was full and happy. He felt a level of completion that he didn't know it was possible to feel. Saving the universe a hundred times over wouldn't give him the same satisfaction as his current life. He was a man surrounded by amazing women: the TARDIS, for one, and Stella, and his beautiful Rose.

Rose slipped back onto the bed and nuzzled her head into the Doctor's shoulder.

"Sometimes this feels completely surreal," she said.

"I know what you mean. But I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm the opposite of complaining."

"Me too. Five years ago we were popping around the universe and saving aliens and planets and causing trouble and being so cheeky. And now we're parents. I don't know what shocks me more, that you're a parent, that I'm a parent, or that we made Stella together. Nineteen year old me would have laughed in my face."

"I think we'll be up and around causing trouble in no time. And I'll have you know that I'm still perfectly cheeky, Mrs. Tyler, thank you very much. You know, I think we did a pretty good job with old Stella, here. You and I make quite I team."

"So I've heard tell. I'd have to agree. Ah, she's asleep. Excellent. Go put her back to bed?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "I promise good things await you at your return."

He looked at her with a deep intensity that opposed his previously light tone.

Upon his return, arms empty of Stella, he did not find Rose lying on the bed where he left her.

"Rose?" he asked to empty air. He walked over to their bed and laid down on his back, propping his head up with his hands.

He saw out of the corner of his eye a door being pushed open. Rose's head peeped around the door of the bathroom and she gave him a genuine megawatt smile as she rounded its corner and revealed the rest of her body.

Rose wasn't really one to don scanty, lacy lingerie, and the Doctor really preferred it that way. Meeting halfway between sexy and practical, Rose wore a satin nighty in banana yellow. The faintly shiny fabric matched her hair, which trailed over her shoulders. Her skin looked even pinker and lovelier.

And her breasts. Oh, her breasts. The Doctor knew, from his medical knowledge only, of course, that pregnancy and motherhood could do some amazing things to the female body, but this, this he thought should be considered criminal she looked so…luscious was the only word he could think of, for which he silently admonished himself.

"Do you like it?" she asked coyly, posing slightly for his benefit.

He responded only with a low growl and she turned flush pink with her success. She was still amazed that she had the ability to reduce a Time Lord, let alone this Time Lord, a man who almost literally could not keep his gob shut, to nothing more than a primal grunt. He had once told her that she was special, he still told her that she was special, but she often failed to understand what he found so special about her. She might be a little bit above average when it came to looks, but, hell, she was hardly Cindy Crawford.

"What, you don't believe me?" the Doctor asked, derailing Rose's car on the Insecurity Express.

"I do! Really. I know you think I'm beautiful and all that. And you make me feel beautiful…but…"

"But what?"

"But I just wonder, you know…" she trailed off. "You're over 900 years old, right?"

"Yes…" He wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"I just would have thought…I dunno, that you've probably met a fair few other young blonde girls over those years. And who's to say one of them couldn't have made you just as happy as I do?"

"It's true. I've met a lot of blonde girls."

Rose deflated slightly.

"But I've never been a blonde girl who's given me so much cheek, who's demanded that I be better, or who's been willing to sacrifice so much of her own happiness for me. Not that I demand the sacrifice…it's just, no one's ever wanted to do that before. As much as I've had other friends before—blonde or not—they've had their lives and I've had mine. They only wanted to share as much of themselves as they felt they could spare, and nothing more. You were different. You gave me all of you, even when I was stubborn and thought I didn't need it. I did need it. I needed it the whole time. My whole life. Even now."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I see. Well, then, you know what you'd better do, then?" Her face was serious, full of business.

"What?"

"You'd better kiss me. Right now."

Without another word, the Doctor pushed himself forward to meet her at the foot of the bed, where she had been sitting. Their faces hovered inches away from each other, their breath mingling between them. His fingers grazed her cheek bone and she felt the trail of fire they left in their wake burn so gently it almost made her purr.

She smiled, closing her eyes, inhaling the scent of their excitement. His nose nuzzled her own and their lips met, first gently, almost gingerly. But she leaned forward, grabbing his head with her fingers wrapped in his hair and she pulled him closer. His fingers explored her back, sliding lower and lower until they reached her bum, when he swiftly maneuvered her so she was sitting on his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Rose, you are beautiful. There could never be anyone else who could affect me the way you do…" he went down for another bout of kissing. "…who could love me the way you do…even if I lived a million of these lifetimes."

The fury of her kissing increased as if she was trying to claim every last inch of him, her kisses trailing from his lips down his neck and across his bare chest. She slid her hands up the sides of his torso and he shivered from the much desired contact.

Rose was falling to pieces, in the best sense, as she released all the love she ever felt.

"Doctor," she moaned. "Doctor, I need you. I need you now."

The Doctor growled again, his desire getting the best of him and overtaking him as quickly as it was Rose.

"And you can have every piece of me. Forever."

END

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm not going to write anymore sequels for this story. I think it ends well here. It's safe to assume that Rose and the Doctor (and Stella) receive their much deserved happy ending. I'll still write other stories, though, just not any for this particular story. Please review!