Fic: 42 Months In
Title: 42 Months In
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluffernutters...but this actually wound up a tiny bit angsty
Pairings: Ten/Rose, Baby
Disclaimer: They ain't mine
A/N: Thank you again for all the awesome feedback on this. I'm really glad so many people seem to like this, as I love writing it.
Summary: I guess the problem is that I don't know how much time you actually have.
Under the cut
Dear Sally,
Welcome to 42 months. You are now the age of the meaning of life. Don't worry, you'll get it when next we run into that nice man, Mr. Dent.
In the last couple of weeks I've started teaching you the letters of the alphabet. The problem is, you seem convinced that C comes before B. But it's not true. The problem is, that you seem so passionate about it, and it's the only thing wrong when you write your ABC's. Or...ACB's as you call them.
I hate to correct you on this. I'm afraid of scarring you for life and turning your world upside down by crushing your firm belief. Your mum's been trying to convince you that B comes before C, but you just won't have it.
Maybe you're just too young for this yet, I don't know. Gallifreyan children developed a bit slower. Well, we had more time to, so it's not really a surprise.
I guess the problem is that I don't know how much time you actually have.
Right. Next topic.
The other night, your mum and I left you with Auntie Sarah-Jane for a few hours while we went out, and you were an absolute angel. You didn't cry when we left, and you didn't give Auntie Sarah-Jane a hard time at all. You watched a movie (Care Bears. Wouldn't have been my choice, but you seemed to like it), and she read you a story.
The only problem we faced was that your Uncle Jack seemed a little jealous that Auntie Sarah-Jane got to babysit and he didn't. He's for possessive of you, though we're still trying to figure out why. So apparently, Mummy and I are going out again tomorrow night while you have some quality time with Uncle Jack.
Don't listen to a work he says. I mean that.
We had a bit of a scare a couple of days ago, when we were crossing the street. Someone, IE, you, didn't look both ways, and were nearly flatten by a rather large truck. We had to sit down and talk about why its important to hold a hand and look both ways before crossing a street anywhere. I don't care if it looks empty. Chances are there's some maniac out there just waiting to run you over.
It's not your fault. Most humans act like the apes they descended from. They don't know any better, and you need to be careful around them, because by Rassilon you do know better. Or you do now. Or you will. You're still very small.
Blimey, we weren't out of the chapter houses at 3 1/2 years old back on Gallifrey, and now I know why. It's terrifying. As much as we try, we're never going to be able to protect you from everything.
Next topic.
Uncle Jack and your mum and I took you to the pool on the TARDIS (yes, there is a pool in here somewhere, Olympic size), and we've been teaching you how to swim. You love it. You especially like getting dunked under water, and tossed around and splashing about.
We got you water wings to start out with so that you can float. You're like a little fish. Which is strange, because we have the hardest time getting you into the bath every night. That's probably more due to crankiness and tiredness more than anything else though.
Tonight, you're sleeping right next to me as I write this. Thumb in your mouth (which needs to stop at some point), curled up.
And the TARDIS has hit something. Which means I have to wrap this up and go figure out what is going on.
Your Dad,
The Doctor
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluffernutters...but this actually wound up a tiny bit angsty
Pairings: Ten/Rose, Baby
Disclaimer: They ain't mine
A/N: Thank you again for all the awesome feedback on this. I'm really glad so many people seem to like this, as I love writing it.
Summary: I guess the problem is that I don't know how much time you actually have.
Under the cut
Dear Sally,
Welcome to 42 months. You are now the age of the meaning of life. Don't worry, you'll get it when next we run into that nice man, Mr. Dent.
In the last couple of weeks I've started teaching you the letters of the alphabet. The problem is, you seem convinced that C comes before B. But it's not true. The problem is, that you seem so passionate about it, and it's the only thing wrong when you write your ABC's. Or...ACB's as you call them.
I hate to correct you on this. I'm afraid of scarring you for life and turning your world upside down by crushing your firm belief. Your mum's been trying to convince you that B comes before C, but you just won't have it.
Maybe you're just too young for this yet, I don't know. Gallifreyan children developed a bit slower. Well, we had more time to, so it's not really a surprise.
I guess the problem is that I don't know how much time you actually have.
Right. Next topic.
The other night, your mum and I left you with Auntie Sarah-Jane for a few hours while we went out, and you were an absolute angel. You didn't cry when we left, and you didn't give Auntie Sarah-Jane a hard time at all. You watched a movie (Care Bears. Wouldn't have been my choice, but you seemed to like it), and she read you a story.
The only problem we faced was that your Uncle Jack seemed a little jealous that Auntie Sarah-Jane got to babysit and he didn't. He's for possessive of you, though we're still trying to figure out why. So apparently, Mummy and I are going out again tomorrow night while you have some quality time with Uncle Jack.
Don't listen to a work he says. I mean that.
We had a bit of a scare a couple of days ago, when we were crossing the street. Someone, IE, you, didn't look both ways, and were nearly flatten by a rather large truck. We had to sit down and talk about why its important to hold a hand and look both ways before crossing a street anywhere. I don't care if it looks empty. Chances are there's some maniac out there just waiting to run you over.
It's not your fault. Most humans act like the apes they descended from. They don't know any better, and you need to be careful around them, because by Rassilon you do know better. Or you do now. Or you will. You're still very small.
Blimey, we weren't out of the chapter houses at 3 1/2 years old back on Gallifrey, and now I know why. It's terrifying. As much as we try, we're never going to be able to protect you from everything.
Next topic.
Uncle Jack and your mum and I took you to the pool on the TARDIS (yes, there is a pool in here somewhere, Olympic size), and we've been teaching you how to swim. You love it. You especially like getting dunked under water, and tossed around and splashing about.
We got you water wings to start out with so that you can float. You're like a little fish. Which is strange, because we have the hardest time getting you into the bath every night. That's probably more due to crankiness and tiredness more than anything else though.
Tonight, you're sleeping right next to me as I write this. Thumb in your mouth (which needs to stop at some point), curled up.
And the TARDIS has hit something. Which means I have to wrap this up and go figure out what is going on.
Your Dad,
The Doctor