FIC: DOCTOR WHO: Baby Steps
Title: Baby Steps
Pairing: Ten.5/Rose
Spoilers: Through S4
Warnings: Baby Fic!
Summary: A perfectly ordinary afternoon with a small, young family in Southern England. Ordinary for the Doctor and Rose, that is, well, ordinary if you take into account their former lives as travelers through time and space. And ordinary if you take into that their baby daughter, Dianthe, just might *be* the most amazing baby on Earth.
Author notes: "Dianthe," the name of the Doctor and Rose's daughter means "flower of the gods." Jackie mentioned it as a joke, originally, because the Doctor had been all "la-de-da the Lonely God and all, back in the day" and it stuck, because both of them thought it was pretty. And who wouldn't want to be the flower of the gods? How cool is that?
From a prompt by seperis, who is often the instigator of my folly. Jenn, dammit, this seems to be part of a larger story. I actually can't get them to stop talking. I'm not promising; I'm just saying there might be more.
Unbeta'd, but vetted by me to the best of my ability. Do point out any egregious errors.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Doctor looked up to see the door open and his Rose standing there, bathed in golden light. He gulped back a memory of The Game Station (so long ago or so long ahead) and smiled. Rose gave him a broad, eyerolling grin back. “See, sweetie?” she said to the wild-haired jumble she carried. “There’s Daddy.”
Dianthe, their nine month old daughter, screamed joyfully, half-launching herself out of her mother’s arms.
“Well, you can’t beat that for an affirmative greeting,” the Doctor murmured, grinning broadly. “Can you?” He leaned down to accept a kiss from Rose, who added a little extra something something into the kiss.
“Exceeeeeept,” he drawled as he licked his lips and stared down at her. “For that. Hello there,” he said huskily, balancing Di so he could whisper into her mother's ear. “Like a tour of my TARDIS?” He dropped his voice to a seductive whisper. “It’s bigger on the inside.”
Rose grinned at him, tongue lolling between her teeth and nudged him with her shoulder “Go on, you.” She looked away, her attention caught by their daughter, who had twisted in his arms and was engrossed in one of the side-struts of the just-ripened machine.
“Tada.” Dianthe whispered, eyes wide, patting the coral structure, face alight. “Tada.” She turned to pat his cheeks. “Happy.”
“Clever girl,” the Doctor beamed at his daughter and stroked the organic strut alongside her little hand. “That’s right, TARDIS. She looks a bit different, hey? You’ve been here, crawled all around inside and outside, and you were there when she decided to look like a garden shed, which was a Very Important Day. You’ve even chewed on bits of her.” He intercepted Dianthe’s lunge. “Though I wouldn’t try that now.”
He threw a grimace at Rose, who rolled her eyes at him, again. "Can you say TARDIS for us, Dianthe?"
"Happy!" Dianthe said instead, with a joyful little bounce.
“Are you a happy girl?” Rose asked.
“No!” Dianthe squealed, “TADA happy!” She pat-pat-patted the TARDIS for emphasis.
The Doctor and Rose darted a fond grin at one another.
“That's right the TARDIS is happy she's ripe and ready to fly. Say it with me,” the Doctor said gently, bouncing Di in his arms. He leaned his head back a bit so she could watch his mouth. “TAR-DIS. TARRRRRRDIS.”
Dianthe moved her mouth laboriously. “Tada. TADA. TADIS. TADIS!! “ she squealed, beat on the TARDIS’ support coral and crowed with triumph. “TADIS!
Around them the room glowed golden-pink and warm. “Did she do that?” Rose asked, face lit with wonder. “Make it all bright like that?”
The Doctor threw his head back and laughed, feeling so much a sense of home with his best girls and his new TARDIS. “Would you look at that, you cheeky monkey? She likes you!” he said, giving Dianthe, then Rose congratulatory hugs and kisses. “I think you two will be fast friends!”
He sniffed proudly, savoring the moment as he gazed up at the TARDIS’ interior. It was smaller than his old TARDIS, softer somehow, which he attributed to its relative youth and of course, its’ instrumentation, which was entirely Earth-based (most of it he’d created himself). He’d gone along with the young TARDIS’s décor scheme and outfitted it with as much organic or recycled material as possible: polished wooden handles, brass bits of antique ship instruments, inlaid bits of mother of pearl, bamboo and that sort of whatnot. And he'd installed a big comfy chair for his girls just this morning. Very pleasing. Welcoming.
“Happy,” Rose whispered, tickling the crease of Di’s neck to make her giggle. “Little Dian-the says the TARDIS is hap-py,” she sang. Dianthe's laugh was rich and full and he tightened his arms around them.
“Well, I suppose the TARDIS does feel bit happy, excited, even. She’s ripened and her user interface is installed, all her people are inside and soon she’ll be able to start flying lessons and our psychic connection with her will get stronger and…”
“TADIS HAPPY!” Dianthe shrieked, throwing her arms wide, clipping her father’s nose in the process and just missing her mother’s eye.
The TARDIS seemed to purr, then broke into a very, very familiar sound. (Though, technically, to the Doctor's ears, a few octaves higher than his old TARDIS). The Spacio-Temporal Regulator bobbed upward, rosy orange and very, very bright. The Doctor glanced at Rose, knowing his own face mirrored her dreadful surprise, and they turned as one to their daughter, who was clapping her hands like this was the Best Thing Ever.
“TADIS HAPPY, Daddy!” she explained and leaned forward to headbutt/kiss him, sticky little hands splayed on his cheeks. Stunned a bit after the smooch, the Doctor goggled at her for a second or two, then dumped her into her mother’s arms and ran for the controls. After a quick perusal, he thrust both hands into his hair and looked to Rose, both elated and horrified.
“She just…” He made a flying gesture, unable to form the word. “We’re!”
“You’re kidding me!” Rose hollered back, “did you program it to…”
“No, no no no,” the Doctor interrupted her. “I mean, yes. I did program a destination - Barcelona, April of 4020 - in order to, you know, test the instruments But,” he said, churning up his hair in hopes of finding an idea, “I’m saying that the TARDIS took off on her own and that she - “ he pointed a trembling finger at Dianthe, who had taken up cheerfully patting or perhaps playing a mazurka on the TARDIS infrastructure. “May have encouraged or even started it.”
“She wasn’t even touching…”
The Doctor nodded vigorously and jammed his shaking hands into his pockets. “I know.” He tried to make his eyes less wide and scared-spitless but was obviously having a bit of trouble with it.
Rose looked at their baby, who was now whispering to a bit of fluff she’d picked off her sweater. “Don’t eat that, sweetheart,” she said gently and plucked it from her fingers. “Shut it off?” she pleaded with him.
“I don’t think I should. Who knows where we’d come out. Or when? Or if we could get back.”
“We just stepped out to the garden to say hello!” Rose said desperately.
The Doctor shrugged, “I’m so sorry, Rose. I…”
“Fuf,” Dianthe said.
Rose jostled Dianthe on her hip and looked at her earnestly, but the Doctor could see her brilliant brain thinking away. “That’s right, sweetheart, fluff. Not good eating.”
“Foods?”
Rose’s face fell. “No, Mummy doesn’t have a snack right now, sweetie.” She looked over to the Doctor. “Or nappies or bottles.” She clenched her teeth, “Though Mummy hopes we can fix that very soon.”
“Easy now,” he said, easing off the control dais. He was bound to think of something in a moment. Really. Any moment now. He pulled a packet of slightly squashed animal crackers out of his pocket, opened it and handed an elephant to Di. He gave himself a hippo and a lion and crunched them meditatively.
“Tell me Dianthe, little Di, little di-amond-bright,” he asked softly. “How long have you been chatting up our TARDIS?” He pulled out another biscuit and held it up in his fist, “Want another elephant?”
Dianthe lay her head on her mother’s shoulder and beamed charmingly up at him. “Monkey,” she corrected him softly, and held out her hand for her biscuit.
The Doctor placed the monkey biscuit in her hand with solemn deliberation. “And why didn’t I realize you were slightly psychic?”
“Doctor,” Rose asked, “how much trouble are we in?”
“A nine-month old half-possibly-not-entirely-normal-range-of-human-senses baby and a newly ripened TARDIS with no training? “ He ruffled up the back of his hair and blew out a breath. “Lots, I should think.”
“Yots,” Dianthe echoed, whispering to her monkey biscuit, and snuggled into her mother’s neck.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Pairing: Ten.5/Rose
Spoilers: Through S4
Warnings: Baby Fic!
Summary: A perfectly ordinary afternoon with a small, young family in Southern England. Ordinary for the Doctor and Rose, that is, well, ordinary if you take into account their former lives as travelers through time and space. And ordinary if you take into that their baby daughter, Dianthe, just might *be* the most amazing baby on Earth.
Author notes: "Dianthe," the name of the Doctor and Rose's daughter means "flower of the gods." Jackie mentioned it as a joke, originally, because the Doctor had been all "la-de-da the Lonely God and all, back in the day" and it stuck, because both of them thought it was pretty. And who wouldn't want to be the flower of the gods? How cool is that?
From a prompt by seperis, who is often the instigator of my folly. Jenn, dammit, this seems to be part of a larger story. I actually can't get them to stop talking. I'm not promising; I'm just saying there might be more.
Unbeta'd, but vetted by me to the best of my ability. Do point out any egregious errors.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Doctor looked up to see the door open and his Rose standing there, bathed in golden light. He gulped back a memory of The Game Station (so long ago or so long ahead) and smiled. Rose gave him a broad, eyerolling grin back. “See, sweetie?” she said to the wild-haired jumble she carried. “There’s Daddy.”
Dianthe, their nine month old daughter, screamed joyfully, half-launching herself out of her mother’s arms.
“Well, you can’t beat that for an affirmative greeting,” the Doctor murmured, grinning broadly. “Can you?” He leaned down to accept a kiss from Rose, who added a little extra something something into the kiss.
“Exceeeeeept,” he drawled as he licked his lips and stared down at her. “For that. Hello there,” he said huskily, balancing Di so he could whisper into her mother's ear. “Like a tour of my TARDIS?” He dropped his voice to a seductive whisper. “It’s bigger on the inside.”
Rose grinned at him, tongue lolling between her teeth and nudged him with her shoulder “Go on, you.” She looked away, her attention caught by their daughter, who had twisted in his arms and was engrossed in one of the side-struts of the just-ripened machine.
“Tada.” Dianthe whispered, eyes wide, patting the coral structure, face alight. “Tada.” She turned to pat his cheeks. “Happy.”
“Clever girl,” the Doctor beamed at his daughter and stroked the organic strut alongside her little hand. “That’s right, TARDIS. She looks a bit different, hey? You’ve been here, crawled all around inside and outside, and you were there when she decided to look like a garden shed, which was a Very Important Day. You’ve even chewed on bits of her.” He intercepted Dianthe’s lunge. “Though I wouldn’t try that now.”
He threw a grimace at Rose, who rolled her eyes at him, again. "Can you say TARDIS for us, Dianthe?"
"Happy!" Dianthe said instead, with a joyful little bounce.
“Are you a happy girl?” Rose asked.
“No!” Dianthe squealed, “TADA happy!” She pat-pat-patted the TARDIS for emphasis.
The Doctor and Rose darted a fond grin at one another.
“That's right the TARDIS is happy she's ripe and ready to fly. Say it with me,” the Doctor said gently, bouncing Di in his arms. He leaned his head back a bit so she could watch his mouth. “TAR-DIS. TARRRRRRDIS.”
Dianthe moved her mouth laboriously. “Tada. TADA. TADIS. TADIS!! “ she squealed, beat on the TARDIS’ support coral and crowed with triumph. “TADIS!
Around them the room glowed golden-pink and warm. “Did she do that?” Rose asked, face lit with wonder. “Make it all bright like that?”
The Doctor threw his head back and laughed, feeling so much a sense of home with his best girls and his new TARDIS. “Would you look at that, you cheeky monkey? She likes you!” he said, giving Dianthe, then Rose congratulatory hugs and kisses. “I think you two will be fast friends!”
He sniffed proudly, savoring the moment as he gazed up at the TARDIS’ interior. It was smaller than his old TARDIS, softer somehow, which he attributed to its relative youth and of course, its’ instrumentation, which was entirely Earth-based (most of it he’d created himself). He’d gone along with the young TARDIS’s décor scheme and outfitted it with as much organic or recycled material as possible: polished wooden handles, brass bits of antique ship instruments, inlaid bits of mother of pearl, bamboo and that sort of whatnot. And he'd installed a big comfy chair for his girls just this morning. Very pleasing. Welcoming.
“Happy,” Rose whispered, tickling the crease of Di’s neck to make her giggle. “Little Dian-the says the TARDIS is hap-py,” she sang. Dianthe's laugh was rich and full and he tightened his arms around them.
“Well, I suppose the TARDIS does feel bit happy, excited, even. She’s ripened and her user interface is installed, all her people are inside and soon she’ll be able to start flying lessons and our psychic connection with her will get stronger and…”
“TADIS HAPPY!” Dianthe shrieked, throwing her arms wide, clipping her father’s nose in the process and just missing her mother’s eye.
The TARDIS seemed to purr, then broke into a very, very familiar sound. (Though, technically, to the Doctor's ears, a few octaves higher than his old TARDIS). The Spacio-Temporal Regulator bobbed upward, rosy orange and very, very bright. The Doctor glanced at Rose, knowing his own face mirrored her dreadful surprise, and they turned as one to their daughter, who was clapping her hands like this was the Best Thing Ever.
“TADIS HAPPY, Daddy!” she explained and leaned forward to headbutt/kiss him, sticky little hands splayed on his cheeks. Stunned a bit after the smooch, the Doctor goggled at her for a second or two, then dumped her into her mother’s arms and ran for the controls. After a quick perusal, he thrust both hands into his hair and looked to Rose, both elated and horrified.
“She just…” He made a flying gesture, unable to form the word. “We’re!”
“You’re kidding me!” Rose hollered back, “did you program it to…”
“No, no no no,” the Doctor interrupted her. “I mean, yes. I did program a destination - Barcelona, April of 4020 - in order to, you know, test the instruments But,” he said, churning up his hair in hopes of finding an idea, “I’m saying that the TARDIS took off on her own and that she - “ he pointed a trembling finger at Dianthe, who had taken up cheerfully patting or perhaps playing a mazurka on the TARDIS infrastructure. “May have encouraged or even started it.”
“She wasn’t even touching…”
The Doctor nodded vigorously and jammed his shaking hands into his pockets. “I know.” He tried to make his eyes less wide and scared-spitless but was obviously having a bit of trouble with it.
Rose looked at their baby, who was now whispering to a bit of fluff she’d picked off her sweater. “Don’t eat that, sweetheart,” she said gently and plucked it from her fingers. “Shut it off?” she pleaded with him.
“I don’t think I should. Who knows where we’d come out. Or when? Or if we could get back.”
“We just stepped out to the garden to say hello!” Rose said desperately.
The Doctor shrugged, “I’m so sorry, Rose. I…”
“Fuf,” Dianthe said.
Rose jostled Dianthe on her hip and looked at her earnestly, but the Doctor could see her brilliant brain thinking away. “That’s right, sweetheart, fluff. Not good eating.”
“Foods?”
Rose’s face fell. “No, Mummy doesn’t have a snack right now, sweetie.” She looked over to the Doctor. “Or nappies or bottles.” She clenched her teeth, “Though Mummy hopes we can fix that very soon.”
“Easy now,” he said, easing off the control dais. He was bound to think of something in a moment. Really. Any moment now. He pulled a packet of slightly squashed animal crackers out of his pocket, opened it and handed an elephant to Di. He gave himself a hippo and a lion and crunched them meditatively.
“Tell me Dianthe, little Di, little di-amond-bright,” he asked softly. “How long have you been chatting up our TARDIS?” He pulled out another biscuit and held it up in his fist, “Want another elephant?”
Dianthe lay her head on her mother’s shoulder and beamed charmingly up at him. “Monkey,” she corrected him softly, and held out her hand for her biscuit.
The Doctor placed the monkey biscuit in her hand with solemn deliberation. “And why didn’t I realize you were slightly psychic?”
“Doctor,” Rose asked, “how much trouble are we in?”
“A nine-month old half-possibly-not-entirely-normal-range-of-human-senses baby and a newly ripened TARDIS with no training? “ He ruffled up the back of his hair and blew out a breath. “Lots, I should think.”
“Yots,” Dianthe echoed, whispering to her monkey biscuit, and snuggled into her mother’s neck.
~*~*~*~*~*~