A/N: My ovaries commanded I write baby fic. So I did. This was originally going to be a one-shot, but then I just got a deluge of ideas, so it'll be a series. Enjoy!

The Best Laid Plans

"What do you think it will be?" Rose whispered. The light was dimmed in the console room. Rose was lounging on the jump seat while the Doctor was tinkering with something. She'd offered to keep the lights up so he could see while he worked, but he insisted that he could see all the same ("Superior Time Lord eyes, Rose, I don't actually need that much light to see.") and she found the dimmed lights relaxing.

Honestly, she'd lately been feeling, well, round. That was as about as accurate a description as any, but of course, the Doctor would have none of it, and continued to insist that she was as lovely as ever. She didn't believe him for a moment, but she wasn't exactly about to argue his compliment, that would just be poor form.

"I thought you didn't want to find out," the Doctor replied from under the console, sparks flying out around him.


He was right; she had said that. The entire situation had been a surprise, so why not one more? She remembered several months ago when she'd woken up suddenly in the early morning. Without looking over to the Doctor, who was for once actually sleeping, she'd darted out of bed and dashed into the en suite, before becoming enormously ill in the toilet.

She'd heard the Doctor rise out of bed and pad to the bathroom.

"Rose, are you okay?" he'd asked, standing at the door clad in nothing more than his boxers.

"Don't come in here. You don't need to see this."

"Don't be ridiculous." He'd walked over next to her and kneeled, stroking her back gently before pulling her hair away from her face.

"I think…I think I'm done," she'd said after a few moments.

"Do you feel like you can walk back to bed? I could carry you, or you do you need a few minutes?"

"Actually, I feel fine. Really. Maybe I just ate something funny." She'd stood up without wobbling and walked over to the sink to brush her teeth.

"All the same, I'd feel better if you would rest for a while. Come back to bed." He'd rested his hand on her arm to walk her back into the bedroom incase his stubborn girl had overestimated her wellness and ended up becoming dizzy.

It had turned out, however, that Rose had not overestimated her wellness and felt fine for the remainder of the day. While he had decided against adventuring that day anyway, it was also Sunday, and Sundays (formerly boring) were now usually spent behind closed doors (always), in a bed (usually), and with Rose Tyler (always).

As much as he'd reveled in their activities, especially that thing she did with her tongue (he was really going to have to name it) he'd kept a very close watch on her, because as much as he trusted Rose to know her own body, he wouldn't exactly be keen on spontaneous illness mid-coitus, and he also didn't like it when Rose was poorly.

It was a good thing he was being so attentive, because the next morning when Rose leapt out of bed and ran for the toilet, he was hot on her tails, sitting next to her as she retched into the toilet, shushing her and stroking her back until she was finished.

She'd looked up and he handed her a hand towel.

"Second time in two days, Rose," he'd said with a look of concern.

"Ugh. Yes, I know. It's all still very vivid, believe me." She'd pasted her toothbrush and started brushing vigorously, trying to get the awful taste out of her mouth.

"And you know that I'm going to have to take you to the Med Bay and give you an exam. You're unwell." He knew she wouldn't appreciate having to be his patient. The way he touched her when he was in doctor Doctor mode was strangely clinical, gentle, but clinical.

She'd shrugged and threw on a t-shirt and minutes later she was sitting on a grey, padded bench, the Doctor's hands running over her face, her throat, probing for who knows what.

"You're temperature is normal," he'd said seriously, reaching over to a metal tray to pick up a syringe. "I'm going to take a blood sample. Nothing major. Just to run a few tests."

Rose had no issue with blood. She had no issue with needles. She had no issue with blood samples or shots, but suddenly she felt very lightheaded and slightly nauseated.

"Do it fast. I'm gonna be sick."

He'd carefully and efficiently found her vein and stuck the needle in, counting to ten as the blood filled up the small phial. As soon as he had bandaged her arm, Rose leapt of bench and threw herself over the sink, instantly sick.

"Ugh, sorry," she'd whimpered. She took a paper cup and filled it with water and rinsed out her mouth. When she turned around the Doctor was directly behind her, practically pinning her to the counter's edge.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he'd said, and kissed her forehead.

"I just vomited in the sink."

"And sinks have drains. Let me help you back to bed. Then I'm going to process this sample, and while it's running we can watch a movie. How's that?"

"I can get back to our room by myself. I feel better, scout's honor. Plus, the sooner you get the sample started, the sooner we can start Aladdin."

He'd given her a wary look, but ended up kissing the top of her head. "Aladdin it is. See you in a few minutes. Yell if you need anything. I love you."

She smiled at him. That smile that made him want to abandon the work in front of him and follow her down the corridor and back to their bedroom. But he let her pad away. Honestly, he'd see her in just a few minutes. Get a hold of yourself, Time Lord.


About two hours later, after the credits started to roll, and the Doctor and Rose together sang every word to every song, and he quoted every last of the Genie's lines, the Doctor begrudgingly pried himself from Rose to check the results.

Rose extracted the DVD from the player and popped back into its case. She really felt fine now. She just figured that she picked up some strange bug while they were on Gravida Prime the other day. The TARDIS's bio-filter was excellent, but not entirely perfect. Rose hummed quietly to herself as she pulled a new shirt out of their chest-of-drawers and grabbed a pair of yoga pants that she knew he thoroughly appreciated.

She turned around to find the Doctor hovering soundlessly in the doorway. He looked…off. Not scared, not concerned, not happy or sad…his face didn't seem to communicate anything.

How long had he been standing there?

Rose shimmied into her pants and walked over to the Doctor, waving her hand in front of his eyes to shake him out of his stupor.

"Doctor?" No response.

"Honestly, Doctor. Anybody home?" She snapped her fingers in front of his face, and his strange daze broke. Now he looked scared.

"What's wrong?" she asked, anxiety starting to kick in. What if she hadn't picked up a flighty sort of flu and it was actually something much more serious?

"Um, well. 'Wrong' is a strong word. I'd say more accurately, 'What's new?' or 'What's a completely unexpected surprise?'"

"I'm not sick then? I'm going to make it, you think?" She stuck her tongue between her teeth and smiled at him.

"Oh, yes, of course. No questions there. Right as rain."


"Oh, right! Here!" He handed her a piece of paper, still warm from the printer.

"This is not written in English, Doctor."

"Really? Oh, yes. I suppose it isn't. Sorry about that." He was speaking quickly as if he were keenly excited but also afraid of being in trouble. "You're pregnant."

That was not what she had expected to hear.


"Pregnant. With child. Knocked up. Up the duff. Oh, no, pretend I didn't say that one. That's rubbish."

"I'm pregnant."


"With…with your child?"

A moment of panic washed over him. "Could it be anyone else's?"

"What? No! Of course not, you daft man. I just…I didn't know that was possible for us. You know, what with me being human and you being a Time Lord and everything."

"I didn't think it was either, yet here we are."

Now calm (not that he ever actually doubted her), he sighed in relief, but not before a new kind of panic took over him.

"Rose, we're pregnant." Oh, God, Rose was pregnant. Rose was pregnant and it was his baby and he was going to be a dad. Right? Yes. No? Wait. "Are you…are you okay with that?"

"With being pregnant?"

"Yeah. Well. And also…being pregnant with a half-alien baby?"

"I…I am. Yes, I am. I mean, I am if you are. You are, right? Yeah?"

He sighed. "I've never really done this before. Not like this."

"And I have? You and me, yeah, we'll figure it out. Make it up as we go along, I guess, just like we usually do."

"We're going to have a baby," he said dumbly, as if repeating the information would make it truer.

"Oh, God, I'm pregnant," she said as if it were just really hitting her. "And I'm going to keep getting sick! Morning sickness, Doctor! And I'm going to get huge! Like properly enormous, not just cut-back–on-the-chips big. And what will Mum think? Maybe I should just tell her. If you do then she might kill you, and I'm not up for another regeneration right now. And where will we raise the baby? We'll have to baby-proof the TARDIS! Is that even possible? And we can't just hop around saving the wor-"

"Rose," he said, cutting off her spiraling panic before she suggested something horrible like buying a flat down the street from her mother. "Rose, breathe. We'll have to make some adjustments, but there's no reason why we can't raise…our child…here on the TARDIS."

"I can't believe we're even talking about this. When I woke up this morning I did not expect to be told that I was pregnant. You're sure…you're sure we can do this?"

"Rose Tyler, I know we can. Stuff of legend, remember?"


"I thought you didn't want to find out?" the Doctor replied from under the console, sparks flying out around him.

"No, no. Not that. I mean," she paused, thinking through her words. "What while he…or she look like? This is the tenth version of you, right? So will it look like? Will it have your brown eyes or will it have blue eyes, like you did the first time I met you?"

He rolled himself out from under the console, his hair devilishly mussed and his face smudged with dirt.

"Um," he started, his brows furrowed in thought. "I think, I think like me, but I'm not entirely sure. I suppose there's always room for anomaly. You see, when I regenerate, the physical aspects of my past self are completely obliterated, but at the same time, Time Lord DNA contains the potential for rearrangement and newness, so…so I suppose there's always a chance we could be surprised, that we might find ourselves a baby with big ears and a Northern accent. Although…"


"I don't think I'd mind horribly if she just ended up having your eyes."

Rose rolled her eyes and heaved herself off of the jump seat. She didn't have long now, she was basically her own planet; no need now to leave the Vortex to explore strange new worlds, as she now felt she might have the gravitational pull to drag her own moon into orbit.

The Doctor stood up from the grating and took her in his arms, their noses grazing each other's.

"You know I don't care who our baby ends up looking like, right? I won't mind if it ends up lanky like you or with a big, dopey nose."

"Hey now! I thought you said you liked that nose!"

"I did! I do. I'm just saying there's no way our baby won't be perfect."

"Rose Tyler, I don't think I could agree more." And he kissed her.

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