(no subject)
Title: Getting To Know You.
Author: Iby.
Spoilers: Nope.
Rating: G.
Characters and Pairings: The Ninth Doctor, Rose, Molly; Nine/Rose.
Author's Notes: I realized on my way to work this morning that I'd never come across a Nine/Rose baby!fic. Now, I know, I know, baby!fic can be enough to strike fear into the heart of even the most obsessive of fangirls, but I really wanted to give it a go. My goal was to see if I could do it, whilst retaining a feeling that was very much Nine.
Summary: The Doctor gets to know his daughter.
Hesitantly, the Doctor opened his mouth; and proceeded to hold it that way for a good few seconds before shutting it in frustration. Once again, he’d failed to find words.
Casting his gaze nervously around the room, he settled on studying the contents of the glass medicine cabinet that sat in the corner of the TARDIS infirmary. He couldn’t help but think that of the two people in the room, he’d be the second to speak. Given the current condition of his companion, that was definitely saying something.
A soft noise drew his attention back to the matter at hand. He felt the muscles in his jaw start to move, but knew that the end result was a foregone conclusion and staved the action off. All in all, it left his teeth gritted together rather uncomfortably.
Breathing deeply through his nose, he rolled his shoulders, unclenched his jaw, opened his mouth and moved his tongue.
He was a Time Lord. His people had been communicating before most other species had even taken form. He would speak.
“Hel...lo?” He tested the word out. Ok, not quite a soliloquy, nor particularly original, but it would do. Finding that it hadn't been too difficult, he decided to have another crack at it. “Hello.” This time, it wasn’t a nervous question.
A soft gurgle was his only response. To his bewilderment, he decided that he quite liked the sound.
“Hello.” This time, he added a theatrical wave. The movement seemed to catch attention, and he wasn’t sure if he was delighted or petrified at being on the spot.
Oh, Rassilon. After a second, he decided that being petrified was probably par for the course, and moved onto the delight.
His confidence bolstered, he reached forward, and touched the warm bundle before him. No, delight didn’t even begin to cover it. It was something more; it was love. Protective, overwhelming, joyous, bounce around and jump up and down, love.
It was the same feeling he felt when everybody lived. When there was a happy ending and the world (whatever world it may be) made it through to another day. Only, this time, all that emotion, all that happiness was directed at one person. One tiny person.
His daughter.
She was wrapped in a blanket, a sleepy warm wriggling bundle, deposited safely in the middle of the examination table. The Doctor had done an initial clean up back in the TARDIS console room (where she’d been delivered, because she’d been too impatient to let Rose reach the infirmary) but she still had patches of white sticky stuff on her cheek. He hadn’t been afraid to touch her then, what with all the hubbub of making sure that she and Rose were alright, but now, where it was quiet and just the two of them, he found himself nervous.
Calling on his joy and wrapping it around himself life a suit of armour, he slowly reached up and touched her cheek. Wiping the remnants of slime away with the pad of his thumb gently, he realized just how daft he was being. Touching her was fantastic, the feel of her skin, alive and moving and new more wonderful than he’d ever thought possible.
Tracing across her cheek with infinite care, he touched her nose reverently. It was so very small, smaller than the end of his thumb. He leaned down closer to her, drawn to her, and looked into her eyes. Blue, like his, and even though she stared uncomprehendingly up at his face he was captivated.
There was a lot he was unsure about, and even more he was nervous about, like any new father he supposed. He’d held the weight of the universe on his shoulders for so long, and now he held the weight of his daughter as well. It was a weight he was happy to carry. She was beautiful, and he was completely in love with her.
Slipping his hands around her, he scooped her up and held her to his chest. Before, he’d been preoccupied with getting her to the infirmary, still dazed after her rather sudden birth. Now though, he could feel her legs wriggle against him from within the blanket, feel how tiny she was, feel the way her little body moved as she breathed. Tucking her into his leather jacket for extra warmth, he made their way to the glass cabinet and plucked a device out from it. There were just a few tests he needed to run, and then he’d get her back to Rose.
He found himself smiling down at her, wanting to reassure her that the tests weren’t going to hurt. This time, the words came easily. He wanted to talk to her, could barely restrain himself, and he got the feeling that he might never stop.
“Nothing to worry about, Molly. I’m going to take care of you. I’m the Doctor. Doctor Who? you ask? Normally, I don’t go by any other name, but you can call me Dad.”
Author: Iby.
Spoilers: Nope.
Rating: G.
Characters and Pairings: The Ninth Doctor, Rose, Molly; Nine/Rose.
Author's Notes: I realized on my way to work this morning that I'd never come across a Nine/Rose baby!fic. Now, I know, I know, baby!fic can be enough to strike fear into the heart of even the most obsessive of fangirls, but I really wanted to give it a go. My goal was to see if I could do it, whilst retaining a feeling that was very much Nine.
Summary: The Doctor gets to know his daughter.
Hesitantly, the Doctor opened his mouth; and proceeded to hold it that way for a good few seconds before shutting it in frustration. Once again, he’d failed to find words.
Casting his gaze nervously around the room, he settled on studying the contents of the glass medicine cabinet that sat in the corner of the TARDIS infirmary. He couldn’t help but think that of the two people in the room, he’d be the second to speak. Given the current condition of his companion, that was definitely saying something.
A soft noise drew his attention back to the matter at hand. He felt the muscles in his jaw start to move, but knew that the end result was a foregone conclusion and staved the action off. All in all, it left his teeth gritted together rather uncomfortably.
Breathing deeply through his nose, he rolled his shoulders, unclenched his jaw, opened his mouth and moved his tongue.
He was a Time Lord. His people had been communicating before most other species had even taken form. He would speak.
“Hel...lo?” He tested the word out. Ok, not quite a soliloquy, nor particularly original, but it would do. Finding that it hadn't been too difficult, he decided to have another crack at it. “Hello.” This time, it wasn’t a nervous question.
A soft gurgle was his only response. To his bewilderment, he decided that he quite liked the sound.
“Hello.” This time, he added a theatrical wave. The movement seemed to catch attention, and he wasn’t sure if he was delighted or petrified at being on the spot.
Oh, Rassilon. After a second, he decided that being petrified was probably par for the course, and moved onto the delight.
His confidence bolstered, he reached forward, and touched the warm bundle before him. No, delight didn’t even begin to cover it. It was something more; it was love. Protective, overwhelming, joyous, bounce around and jump up and down, love.
It was the same feeling he felt when everybody lived. When there was a happy ending and the world (whatever world it may be) made it through to another day. Only, this time, all that emotion, all that happiness was directed at one person. One tiny person.
His daughter.
She was wrapped in a blanket, a sleepy warm wriggling bundle, deposited safely in the middle of the examination table. The Doctor had done an initial clean up back in the TARDIS console room (where she’d been delivered, because she’d been too impatient to let Rose reach the infirmary) but she still had patches of white sticky stuff on her cheek. He hadn’t been afraid to touch her then, what with all the hubbub of making sure that she and Rose were alright, but now, where it was quiet and just the two of them, he found himself nervous.
Calling on his joy and wrapping it around himself life a suit of armour, he slowly reached up and touched her cheek. Wiping the remnants of slime away with the pad of his thumb gently, he realized just how daft he was being. Touching her was fantastic, the feel of her skin, alive and moving and new more wonderful than he’d ever thought possible.
Tracing across her cheek with infinite care, he touched her nose reverently. It was so very small, smaller than the end of his thumb. He leaned down closer to her, drawn to her, and looked into her eyes. Blue, like his, and even though she stared uncomprehendingly up at his face he was captivated.
There was a lot he was unsure about, and even more he was nervous about, like any new father he supposed. He’d held the weight of the universe on his shoulders for so long, and now he held the weight of his daughter as well. It was a weight he was happy to carry. She was beautiful, and he was completely in love with her.
Slipping his hands around her, he scooped her up and held her to his chest. Before, he’d been preoccupied with getting her to the infirmary, still dazed after her rather sudden birth. Now though, he could feel her legs wriggle against him from within the blanket, feel how tiny she was, feel the way her little body moved as she breathed. Tucking her into his leather jacket for extra warmth, he made their way to the glass cabinet and plucked a device out from it. There were just a few tests he needed to run, and then he’d get her back to Rose.
He found himself smiling down at her, wanting to reassure her that the tests weren’t going to hurt. This time, the words came easily. He wanted to talk to her, could barely restrain himself, and he got the feeling that he might never stop.
“Nothing to worry about, Molly. I’m going to take care of you. I’m the Doctor. Doctor Who? you ask? Normally, I don’t go by any other name, but you can call me Dad.”