This was written for my amazing friend, ohtentoo (on tumblr), for her birthday. Because we're both suckers for baby!fic and who knows how long we've spent crying over it.


It's not the first time that it's crossed her mind. They're both a miracle—a woman from another universe, a man who used to be alien. They shouldn't be able to have this, they don't deserve it—and she never thought they'd get it, a perfect life, a family—so what if—?

What if they can't have a child together?

They don't discuss it, but she knows he's anxious too. Rose sees it in his eyes, the hesitancy at odd moments. They pass a family with a wailing one year old one day, and a shop filled with prams and onesies the next, and he sort of freezes, anxiety clear in his eyes. When she sees the look in his eyes she wants to tell him that it'll—it'll be alright. They'll be able to have this, they will.

How can she say that, though, when she doesn't know for sure?

Those evenings, after days filled with hints and teasings of what they could have and what they might not—she kisses him especially hard, just as he pushes her back onto the bed and fills her, his thrusts forceful and desperate. He's trying, they both are—too hard, maybe. Maybe we're hoping too hard. He pulls her into his arms afterwards, and she buries her face in his chest. No. Got to keep believing it's possible.

Because—she wants this. It's the one thing they could never have had before, and she wants it just as much as he, and they're both scared. They've been trying for so many months now, so many, that she won't let herself be optimistic any longer. She's tired of disappointment.

When she misses her period for the second time in a row, she still doesn't let herself hope.

She's skipped before—well, never twice in two months, never one right after another, but still—it's nothing. She tells herself that, tells herself that she's late, it's a fluke, don't think about it. However, nothing stops the thin, fluttering feeling she gets in her stomach.

What if—?

She squashes the thought.

A week after she was due to begin, she decides that she's failing in her valiant effort of not-hoping and she buys a pregnancy test from the drug store. She doesn't tell the Doctor—what use would it be, to get his hopes up as well?—she hides the box behind an unused container of tampons. The Doctor shouldn't be able to find it there.

She'll try in the morning, for the best results.

He is still asleep when she sneaks out of bed. It's a Saturday; no work for either of them and no plans with Jackie and Pete and Tony. The Doctor hates to admit it, but his body loves sleep, almost as much as Rose does. She reckons he could sleep through a small earthquake, which is something she's glad about. It will make this easier, this sneaking around, this testing of herself to see if she and the Doctor are going to have a child within the next nine months.

She ducks into the bathroom, quickly sitting down on the toilet. She doesn't even look at the test when she's done, just sets it on the side of the sink and goes into the living room, trying to be patient as she waits for the results to show. A nervous knot settles in her stomach.

"Oh, god," she murmurs, wishing that the sick feeling would go away. She paces around the sofa, then heads into the kitchen and drinks a glass of water. Calm down. Just… Calm down. 'S no big deal, if you're wrong…

That's a lie and she doesn't even try to deny it to herself. This. This is so very important. The most important thing they've ever done. And they've done so much, both of them— saved countless lives, the world, the multiverse. He's died and regenerated, she's taken in the heart of the TARDIS and resurrected the dead.

But they've never created life.

They've never brought someone into the universe, someone who is entirely unique, someone who has the potential to change the world. Someone who will change the world, even if it's only in small ways.

She wants this, with him. She wants to be a parent, a— a mum.

Rose glances at her watch. It's been five minutes. She takes a shaky breath—it's time.

The thin, white stick is face down on the tile of the sink, so she can't see the result as she opens the door. Her stomach feels more knotted than ever, her legs shaky—

She can't wait any longer. Rose grabs the stick and her eyes refuse focus for a second but then—

There's a small plus sign near the top of the stick.

A small plus sign.

Positive.

"Oh my god." She holds her hand over her mouth, trying to keep in the sob or the laugh that's trying to come out. Her breath comes in short pants, and she grabs for the box again, fumbling for another stick, to test herself again.

This time, she stays in the bathroom to watch the positive sign appear.

The Doctor wakes up slowly, to a Rose-less bed.

He frowns, sleep-addled mind confused by her absence. Weekends are usually the days they stay in bed for a good portion of the morning. A very good portion. Maybe... she had to use the loo?

She doesn't come back after around ten minutes, and he decides to go in search of her. He slowly climbs out of bed, pulling on a shirt that doesn't match his striped jimjam bottoms and ruffling his hair absently. He yawns.

"Rose?"

She doesn't answer, so he walks out into the hall and looks in the kitchen and living room. No Rose. Maybe she is in the bathroom, then.

"Rose? You in the toilet?"

A scrambling sound comes from that room and suddenly the door flies open—revealing Rose. She's grinning, a smile so wide and bright that he can't help but grin back at her. She's beautiful, hair a little tangled from sleep and wearing a long pink shirt that barely covers the top of her thighs.

"Yeah, yeah I was—" she answers, voice rushed and full of emotion. "C'mere—" She crosses over to him in less than a second and pulls him into her arms. He sighs happily as her lips meet his, but her kiss is a little more forceful than he expected—tongue plunging immediately into the Doctor's mouth, arms winding around his neck, her soft body moving against his. He thinks he sees something in her hand, in his peripheral vision, but he's too distracted by her to pursue that curiosity—he groans loudly, his lips chasing after hers as she pulls back.

"What was—" He clears his throat. "What was that for?"

She grins even wider and leans against his chest, burying her face into his shirt. "Guess," she says. Her arms are still around his waist, hugging him tightly.

"Er…" He cocks his head to the side. "You just felt like kissing me? 'Cos I'm a really great kisser." He grins smugly.

She laughs. "No, silly. I—" Her voice catches. "I—" She buries her head back into his chest again, and the Doctor's eyes go wide when she makes a small sobbing noise.

"What is it, Rose?" He pulls back slightly, worried. She's got a few tears in the corners of her eyes and her smile is watery. "What's wrong?"

"It's fine, I'm fine," she whispers. "I've got news for you. Do you want to sit down?" She moves away from him, pulling him toward the sofa.

What he wants, is to know what's going on. His stomach twists with nervousness. What could have Rose grinning and snogging him one second, and almost crying the next?

He freezes.

"Rose."

She looks at him, and he notices that her left hand is behind her back.

"Rose," he says urgently. "Rose, what's—what are you holding? What's in your hand?"

He doesn't want to hope—He can't believe, not if his suspicions are wrong—

She tugs him closer, so that they're both standing in front of the sofa. "I, I got them. Yesterday. And this morning…

"Rose, please," he whispers. Begs. His single, human heart beats quickly and too loudly. I'm human, he thinks, as he realizes all over, as it hits him again that this is his life, that this is within the realm of possibility.

She hands him two white sticks.

"Pre-pregnancy tests," he says, and almost blushes as his voice cracks. "These are—" He clears his throat, trying to get his body under control. His hands are shaking and the tests feel incredibly heavy.

Like they hold the whole weight of the world.

"These are positive," he whispers.

"Yeah."

"These are positive—"

He stands completely still, dumbfounded. He's had children before, but not for centuries and not with Rose. He hadn't thought that he'd have a family again, ever—

Then he met Rose. Then he became human. Now… Now…

"We're having a baby!" he says, and laughs, grabbing her into a hug and spinning her around. She laughs too and kisses her, hard. His tongue seeks hers, swirling around her mouth and tracing the roof of her mouth. He guides her to the sofa, his lips not leaving hers—until they're in a very familiar position. Her against the springy cushions, him looming over her.

He pushes the cloth of her shirt up, tracing a finger along her skin. She's not wearing any knickers, he's pleased to note. He leans down and kisses her thigh, looking up at her carefully. She looks back at him, eyes dazed and happy and careless and excited.

He remembers what he promised her on the beach. A human life, living together on the path that had been forbidden to him.

No more. No more, because now he has Rose, now they're going to have a family.