Child's Play (1/2)
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/294755.html">Child's Play (1/2) by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha, Ten, Other Characters | Rating: PG | Spoilers: None )
Title: Child's Play (1/2)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Ten, Jamie (OC), Francine
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Doctor and Martha's son is about to have an 11th birthday he'll never forget.
Disclaimer: Any characters you've not seen on TV are mine, the rest belong to the Beeb.
Author Notes: After I posted Child of Time several people asked for more, and before I knew it I'd been ambushed by a plot bunny. Consider this your official introduction to James Thomas Jones, the son of Dr Martha Jones and the Doctor.
Betas: catholicphoton and abstruse_fangrl who probably shouldn't be encouraging me to do this!
~~~~~~
Martha was pulled from her exhausted sleep by a very familiar sound, that of the TARDIS materialising in her sitting room. She hadn't even opened her eyes before her bedroom door was flung wide and a young boy with dark skin, wild hair and dark brown eyes came bounding into the room.
"Mum, Mum! Dad's here!" Jamie exclaimed, rushing to her bedside.
"Mmm, that's nice," she mumbled. "Why don't you go and play with him while Mum gets a bit more sleep."
"Don't you want to see him?" asked her son, sounding slightly disappointed.
Martha lifted her head from the pillow to squint at him. "Not right now." She peered blearily at the clock on the bedside table. "I've only had three hours sleep," she protested when she saw it was 6 am. "Please Jamie, just a couple more hours."
He came closer to the bed, then leaned forward and slid his arms around her neck. "Okay. Love you Mum."
She kissed his cheek. "Love you too," she mumbled. She heard the door close more quietly, and turned over, chasing sleep again.
* * * * * *
The Doctor was slightly surprised when Jamie returned downstairs without Martha in tow. "Where's your Mum?"
"In bed, trying to catch up on her sleep," the boy answered, crossing to join his father on the sofa. "She said she's only had three hours sleep."
The Time Lord glanced across at the clock on the wall. "It's not like your Mum to be out until the early hours," he observed, lifting the boy into his lap and ruffling the mop of hair Jamie had inherited from him. "You're getting heavy."
"I've grown two inches in two months," Jamie announced proudly. "Mum says I'm going to be a beanpole, like you." He looked at the Doctor's face and giggled at his expression.
"Beanpole," his dad repeated, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Is that how she sees me?"
"She called you a beanpole yesterday," Jamie reported.
"Huh. So, James Thomas Jones, it's your birthday tomorrow, and I've brought you a brilliant present, even if I say it myself."
"What is it?" asked Jamie excitedly.
"A crystal radio set - that is, a set to build a radio literally out of crystals."
"Can I see it?"
"Yeah, why not." The Doctor lifted the boy off his lap, then grabbed his hand and led him into the TARDIS, which was parked in her usual spot in the corner of the sitting room.
"There you go," he said, pointing at a large square box sitting in front of the captain's chair; the box was wrapped in midnight blue paper with silver stars on it. "Go on, open it," the Doctor urged, leaning back against the edge of the console, his hands shoved into the pockets of his brown pinstripe suit.
Jamie stood with one hand on the top of the box and looked up at his dad, curiosity warring with caution in his deep brown eyes. "It's not my birthday until tomorrow," he said. "Mum says I mustn't open my presents until the day."
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, normally I'd agree with your Mum, but you did say she was trying to catch up on her sleep, didn't you?" Jamie nodded, his eyes wide. "Well then, she'll want us to be quiet, and if we're building this, we'll be nice and quiet, and then she'll be happy when she wakes up." The Time Lord tilted his head, looking down at his son with a grin.
"Okay!" The boy gave him a conspiratorial smile back.
The Doctor's grin widened. "That's my boy!" he exclaimed happily. "Come on, let's go and set this up on the kitchen table."
"I want a piggyback," Jamie said. "Please?"
His dad chuckled. "Go on then." He crossed to the seat and set the box down there, then waited while Jamie climbed up.
"Turn around please," he instructed.
The Doctor turned his back and bent his knees slightly, and a small pair of arms circled his neck. He reached behind him and grabbed the boy's legs, pulling them around his waist.
"Now, hold on tight, because if you slip, I won't be able to catch you," the Doctor said seriously, turning to pick up the box.
"Okay."
"Ack! Not so tight you cut off my air supply, thank you," gasped the Time Lord as his son's arms tightened their grip.
"Sorry, Dad." He loosened his grip slightly, then giggled as the Doctor shouted 'Hup, hup!" and set off across the console room and down the ramp.
They settled themselves side by side at the kitchen table, Jamie standing on his chair to unwrap the box.
"Don't you ever want to just tear off the paper?" the Doctor asked curiously.
His son turned and gave him the sort of look he was more used to receiving from Martha when she thought he was being too alien. "Silly daddy," he admonished, before turning back to his task, leaving the Time Lord feeling bemused.
The box was soon unwrapped and the Doctor carefully folded up the wrapping paper, then helped Jamie to pull open the flaps on the top of the box. The boy's eyes lit up when he saw the Styrofoam-style packing inside and he plunged his hands in until his arms disappeared up to the elbows, which caused him to giggle as he paddled his hands about in the stuff.
"How old are you?" asked the Time Lord with a chuckle.
"Eleven tomorrow," Jamie answered, turning and sticking his tongue out.
"Oi!" his Dad exclaimed. "Does your Mum approve of you doing that?"
"No," he admitted. He pulled something out of the box, then gasped in awe when he saw he'd grabbed a deep blue crystal.
"Gently, now," the Doctor said quietly.
He watched with an intense feeling pleasure as Jamie unpacked the crystals, his mind flashing back three years to the day when he and Martha had first found out that he was Jamie's father.
* * * * * *
Three years ago
The Doctor took the TARDIS to Martha's house while she and her mother dealt with the doctors at the hospital and arranged for his discharge. When Martha pulled up outside the house the Time Lord pushed himself away from the wall against which he'd been lounging, and crossed to the car. He opened the door and helped Jamie clamber out of the backseat, then remained holding the door for Francine, who gave him a rather bemused look.
"I don't know about anyone else, but I could murder a cuppa," Martha said, carefully avoiding both her mother's and the Doctor's eyes as she held out a hand to her son.
"A nice superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin," the Doctor said, smacking his lips enthusiastically, earning himself another bemused look from Francine, and a stern one from Martha.
Jamie giggled. "You talk funny," he said, grinning up at the Time Lord.
"No funnier than you Master James Thomas Jones," he answered, scooping the small boy up and dangling him above his head.
Jamie giggled even more helplessly at this treatment.
"Put him down, Doctor, please. I don't want him throwing up," Martha said quietly.
"Aw, is your Mum being a spoilsport?" he asked, lowering Jamie back down to the ground as she unlocked the front door.
"No, Mum is being a mother and a doctor, and quite practical, as usual," Martha said, ushering them indoors.
The Time Lord pouted a bit, then subsided when he caught sight of Francine's disapproving expression.
Jamie yawned suddenly and unselfconsciously. "Will you tuck me in please, Nana?" he asked.
"Are you going to bed?" Francine asked, surprised.
"Need a nap," he said, blinking owlishly up at her.
"Very well."
He turned to Martha for a hug, smiled up at the Doctor, then slid his hand into Francine's and headed upstairs, leaving Martha and the Doctor to go into the kitchen.
As she helped Jamie into his pyjamas, then folded back the duvet, with its rockets, planets and astronauts cover, Francine asked. "Do you like the Doctor?"
"Yes. He's a nice man and he made my head better. He likes my Mum, too."
Her head jerked round at his words and she stared at him as he settled himself comfortably, his left arm wrapped tightly around his toy giraffe. Jamie's eyes closed and he didn't see the stern expression on his grandmother's face as she processed the information he had offered so guilelessly. She thought of the Doctor's almost fatherly expression when he and Martha had brought Jamie back onto the ward earlier, and his behaviour just now; then she thought of Martha's change in manner eight years ago, after she had been visited by the Doctor at Francine's own suggestion. Suddenly one and one seemed to add up to three, not two.
"Sleep well, Jamie," she said softly, bending over and kissing his forehead, then his cheek.
"Nigh-night Nana," he whispered back.
Francine stalked downstairs and into the kitchen where she found Martha and the Doctor sitting either side of the table, mugs in front of them, and a teapot under a cosy between them. The Doctor got up to offer her his chair.
"How dare you," she hissed, then slapped his left cheek, just as she had so many years ago.
"Mum!" Martha exclaimed, horrified.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Martha Jones?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest and glaring down at her daughter. She ignored the Doctor, who was cradling his cheek, which now sported bright red fingermarks.
Martha sighed. "Tom's not Jamie's dad, the Doctor is," she said.
"And just when were you planning on telling me?" Francine demanded angrily.
"Now, actually," her daughter answered. "I didn't tell you before because I didn't know before. Jamie's cataleptic state was caused by his mind being overwhelmed telepathically. The Doctor has taught him how to shield his mind, but until he gets used to doing it, he's going to need us to keep a close eye on him."
"And to think I rang you for your help," Francine said angrily, turning her attention to the Time Lord.
"Mum! It's not entirely the Doctor's fault.
Francine sat down abruptly in the chair the Doctor had vacated for her; the Time Lord moved away, leaning against the sink unit with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
"What are we going to do?" Francine asked.
"Much the same as ever," Martha answered, "only now Jamie will have his dad around occasionally."
"You're not going to live together?"
"No," Martha said promptly. "The Doctor can't stay tied to the Earth for long periods, when he's needed elsewhere. Besides, you and I have brought Jamie up between us without any major problems. He's a happy, well-adjusted child, all things considered."
"I'll be making regular visits to see him and Martha," the Doctor said. "I'll teach him about my people so he doesn’t grow up in complete ignorance of the other half of his heritage, but he's promised not to go around telling the other children that his dad's an alien."
"So you're not going to take Martha and Jamie away, and go careering about in that ship of yours?" Francine asked anxiously.
"Definitely not," her daughter answered emphatically. "He's much too young and it'd be far too dangerous." Francine smirked. "What?" asked Martha.
"It's easy to see who's going to be wearing the trousers in your relationship," he mother said.
The Doctor looked away, apparently discomfited by her humour.
"Well, who has the most experience of bringing up a small boy?" asked Martha, smiling at the Time Lord.
"You do," he agreed. "But I hope you'll let me help now that I know about Jamie."
"Yes, we will. Won't we Mum?"
Francine sighed at her daughter's pointed expression. "Yes. I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy about the situation," she said, "because I'm not. But what's done is done."
"Thank you Mrs Jones."
"Have you told Jamie yet?" she asked.
"Yes. We told him once he had recovered from the catalepsy. He seemed to take it in his stride, but the Doctor's going to stay around for a couple of days in case Jamie has any questions."
Francine nodded. "All right. I'm going to go home. I've things to do after spending most of the last three days at the hospital. I'll bring Jamie's homework stuff back over later."
"Thanks Mum."
* * * * * *
Now
The Doctor reflected that his relationship with Francine Jones had remained cordial during the last three years, but it had never become warmer. On the other hand, she'd never felt the need to slap him again, which was a definite plus as far as he was concerned.
"Dad, what comes next?" asked Jamie, giving him an expectant look; he had removed all the crystals from the box, together with a circuit diagram and various other bits and pieces, and set everything out neatly on the table.
"First, I get rid of this," the Doctor said, taking the box off the table and putting it on the floor. "Then you take a look at the circuit diagram and see if you can work out where everything goes. I'm going to watch and make sure you don't go wrong, because I don't think your Mum will be happy if anything gets blown up, do you?"
"No. Mum says 'blowing things up is rarely necessary'," Jamie told him in a solemn tone as he repeated his mother's words. "But I like bangs." His whisper was confidential and his eyes bright with amusement.
The Doctor chuckled. "I bet she did say that, too. I suspect you'd have got on well with Ace - she liked bangs too. And for her blowing things up was a very desirable outcome. She felt cheated otherwise."
"Who's Ace?" Jamie asked. "Can I meet her?" He looked up from the circuit diagram he was unfolding with an eager expression that reminded the Doctor of Martha when they had arrived somewhere new during their travels.
"Ace used to travel with me a long time ago," the Time Lord answered. "But I've lost touch with her since, so it would be hard for you to meet her."
"Oh." Jamie looked so disappointed by this that the Doctor immediately found himself trying to think of a way to cheer him up.
"Do you want to go on a trip in the TARDIS as a birthday treat?" the Doctor asked.
His son look at him with shining eyes. "Can I?" He sounded as if he didn't quite believe the Doctor's offer.
"Yep! When your Mum's awake again, though, 'cos I think she might scalp me if we went without her."
Jamie began giggling. "You'd look funny with no hair," he said, breathless with laughter.
The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "I would," he agreed.
"Mum says your hair is your biggest vanity," his son said, with a smirk not unlike Martha's.
"Oh does she? What else does your Mum say about me?" He spread out the circuit diagram flat on the table and began sorting through the crystals.
"That you shouldn't travel alone because you need a friend to watch your back and someone to hold your hand when you run away from the bad guys."
Jamie glanced down at the circuit diagram, then picked up the big blue crystal he'd first taken from the box, setting it carefully in the right position. As the Doctor watched he picked up a deep purple crystal and placed it at a distance of exactly six inches from the blue one.
"Mum says you need friends to travel with you to remind you that you're a man, not a god. Are you lonely?" he asked, giving the Time Lord a piercing look.
"Quite often," the Doctor answered, reluctantly. He would rather not have admitted that, but he had found that he disliked lying to his son: the knowledge that he'd told Martha half-truths or downright lies in the past weighed heavily on his conscience, and he'd made Jamie a silent promise never to lie to him as he had to Martha.
He watched as Jamie continued to the assemble the crystals in the correct configuration without giving the diagram a second glance, and he wondered if the boy had an eidetic memory.
Half an hour later all the crystals were in place and aligned as precisely as if they'd been set out with a ruler.
"Well done son," the Doctor said, his voice full of pride.
"How do I make it work?" asked Jamie.
"You'll need this." The Time Lord held out a long silver object.
"A sonic screwdriver?" asked his son, taking it with an almost reverent expression.
"Yup!" The Doctor grinned at him. "I made that one for Martha, but you can have a go with it first."
"Thanks Dad!" Jamie took the device and, without needing to be told, activated it and pointed it at the big blue crystal in the centre of the circuit.
Immediately the whole house was filled with the sound of Meatloaf's 'Bat out of Hell' being played at full blast.
"Uh-oh!" exclaimed Jamie, clapping his hands over his ears.
The Doctor whipped out his own sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the blue crystal, silencing the music just as a pyjama-clad Martha appeared in the doorway, an expression of annoyance on her face.
"Sorry Mum," Jamie said immediately.
"Sorry Martha."
"I'd appreciate it if you could keep the din down to a dull roar, please," she said, sounding cross. "I'm going to shower and get dressed since getting any more sleep is obviously out of the question." She walked away, and Jamie and the Doctor exchanged guilty looks.
"We should make some coffee for Mum," the boy suggested.
"And make you some breakfast," the Doctor said, just as his son's stomach rumbled, which made them both laugh.
"Right, let's see if we can pack this lot away, and get the breakfast things out, before your Mum comes back."
"She usually takes 15.5 minutes in the shower, and 9.7 minutes to get dressed," Jamie informed him as he picked up the nearest crystal to put it back into the box.
"You've timed her?" the Time Lord asked, not really sure what answer he expected.
"Only in my head," his son answered.
The Doctor shook his head slightly: being able to measure time in that way was perfectly normal for Time Lords, but he hadn't been sure that Jamie had inherited the ability.
"Okay. By your reckoning we've got at least twenty five minutes to get everything sorted out, so let's do it, and then maybe your Mum won't be so cross."
As the two of them cleared the crystal radio set from the table, laid it with a white and pale blue checked tablecloth (which Martha usually reserved for special occasions because the linen was hard to keep clean with a small boy in the house), then set out the breakfast things, the Doctor wondered why Martha had been so late home, and if it was simply that, and his earlier-than-intended arrival, that had made her cross. He decided that it might not be a good idea to confess that he'd arrived twelve hours earlier than he'd actually intended.
"Mum will be down in one minute," Jamie suddenly informed him, nearly twenty five minutes later.
His dad lifted an eyebrow enquiringly, intrigued. "How do you know that?"
"She told me," he said simply.
The Doctor looked at him in amazement. "How?"
Jamie gave him an 'isn't-it-obvious' look. "Telepathically. She said, 'Jamie, I'll be down in a minute'."
The Time Lord abruptly realised that there were any number of things that he didn't know about his son's development as a human-Time Lord hybrid, and he foresaw that he would soon need to sit down and talk to the boy properly.
"Can you hear me?" he asked.
Jamie shook his head. "I can tell if you're happy or sad - or worried. I might be able to hear you if you talked to me directly, like Mum does." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Why are you often worried when you come to see us? Is it because the bad guys might be causing trouble when you're visiting us?"
"I worry about a lot of things," the Doctor said, then realised that Martha was standing in the doorway, and that he had no idea how long she'd been there.
"Hello Martha," he said quietly.
"Hello Doctor." She looked at the table, then back at him. "Trying to make up for dragging me out of bed?" she asked, smirking at him.
"Um, yes." He admitted sheepishly.
"Thank you." She stepped into the kitchen and he held out his arms to her, a question in his eyes.
"Daft alien," she said affectionately, allowing him to hug her, then laughing when he picked her up off her feet.
"Breakfast?" he suggested, the corners of his eyes and mouth crinkling with laughter.
"Yes please." She looked at Jamie, who was sitting waiting patiently for his parents to finish greeting each other.
"Morning Jamie." She held out her arms and he immediately scrambled off his chair to give her a hug.
"Sorry we woke you up, Mum," he said.
Martha ruffled his hair. "It's okay. You know what your Dad's sense of timing is like."
"Oi!" protested the Doctor, pouting, which just set mother and son giggling at him.
They sat down together to eat breakfast and share their latest news.
"Why were you so late home?" asked the Doctor when they'd nearly finished eating. "Jamie said you didn't get home until the early hours."
"UNIT," Martha said. "We've had an outbreak of Tarellian Flu, and I've spent the last three days trying to synthesise antiviral drugs to deal with it. I finished at one this morning, then stayed to see it administered to everyone, and that it was working, before I drove home." She ate another mouthful of cereal and fruit. "Mum's been here looking after Jamie for me."
"Mum didn't come home for two nights!" Jamie said, his eyes wide. "She was too busy trying to make everyone well again."
"I'm sorry about that love," Martha said, reaching across the corner of the table to stroke his cheek. "I missed you."
He gave her a solemn look. "You did what you had to do," he said quietly. "You always do."
She pulled a face. "That makes me sound like some kind of sanctimonious do-gooder," she said.
"Rubbish!" said the Doctor instantly. "It makes you sound like the hero you are."
Sensing his Mum's discomfort at this remark, Jamie jumped in. "Mum, Dad said we can go on a trip in the TARDIS to celebrate my birthday."
"Did he?" she said, looking daggers at the Time Lord.
"I thought we could go to the Eye of Orion," he said quickly. "It'll be nice and quiet there."
"Jamie, if you've finished your breakfast go and have a shower and get dressed. Wear your black jeans, and make sure you bring a jumper because it gets chilly there."
He looked from his Mum's stormy expression to his Dad's guilty one. "Are you sending me away so you can have a row?" he asked.
Martha raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm asking you to go and get dressed so you're ready to go on this trip."
"Yes Mum." He went out and upstairs to his room. He knew he couldn't read the Doctor's emotions quite as easily as his Mum's, but he reckoned he'd know if they were arguing, even if they didn't shout.
Down in the kitchen the Doctor was studying his empty mug as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen in an attempt to avoid the accusation in Martha's eyes.
"You're a devious one," she said, beginning to gather up the breakfast things.
"Devious?" he asked, surprised.
"Offering Jamie a trip in the TARDIS when I wasn't there to veto it, and for his birthday too, so that I can't tell him he can't go without looking mean."
"It wasn't like that Martha," he said quickly, getting to his feet to help her. "We were talking about not blowing up things, and I mentioned Ace, who travelled with my seventh self. Jamie asked if he could meet her, and I had to say no because I lost touch with her just before the Time War. He seemed so disappointed that I offered him a trip in the TARDIS to cheer him up."
The Doctor put the last of the breakfast crockery on the counter as Martha began running the hot water to wash up. "I'm sorry, Martha, I wasn't thinking. Jamie hasn't asked me for much these last three years, and it hurt to refuse him one of the few things he has ever requested from me."
"I understand," she answered. "But please, in future, we have to discuss these things before you go making offers willy-nilly, okay?"
He touched two fingers to his temple in salute. "Yes ma'am."
Martha shook her head, but he could see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and he stepped behind her to wrap his arms around her middle.
"For what it's worth, I think you're doing a brilliant job of bringing up our son," he told her softly.
"Thank you."
"You didn't tell me before that you talk to him telepathically," he observed, his arms still around her as she washed up.
"That's because we hadn't started doing it the last time you were here," Martha answered.
Something in the tone of her voice made him feel wary. "How long is it since you saw me?"
"Three months, more or less," she answered.
"Ah." He freed an arm to rub nervously at the back of his neck.
"How long has it been for you?"
Behind her the Doctor scrunched up his face unseen as he counted. "Six weeks." He frowned. "We need to get back in synch," he said. "I honestly thought it would be six weeks for the two of you as well."
* * * * * *
Part 2
Title: Child's Play (1/2)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Ten, Jamie (OC), Francine
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Doctor and Martha's son is about to have an 11th birthday he'll never forget.
Disclaimer: Any characters you've not seen on TV are mine, the rest belong to the Beeb.
Author Notes: After I posted Child of Time several people asked for more, and before I knew it I'd been ambushed by a plot bunny. Consider this your official introduction to James Thomas Jones, the son of Dr Martha Jones and the Doctor.
Betas: catholicphoton and abstruse_fangrl who probably shouldn't be encouraging me to do this!
~~~~~~
Martha was pulled from her exhausted sleep by a very familiar sound, that of the TARDIS materialising in her sitting room. She hadn't even opened her eyes before her bedroom door was flung wide and a young boy with dark skin, wild hair and dark brown eyes came bounding into the room.
"Mum, Mum! Dad's here!" Jamie exclaimed, rushing to her bedside.
"Mmm, that's nice," she mumbled. "Why don't you go and play with him while Mum gets a bit more sleep."
"Don't you want to see him?" asked her son, sounding slightly disappointed.
Martha lifted her head from the pillow to squint at him. "Not right now." She peered blearily at the clock on the bedside table. "I've only had three hours sleep," she protested when she saw it was 6 am. "Please Jamie, just a couple more hours."
He came closer to the bed, then leaned forward and slid his arms around her neck. "Okay. Love you Mum."
She kissed his cheek. "Love you too," she mumbled. She heard the door close more quietly, and turned over, chasing sleep again.
* * * * * *
The Doctor was slightly surprised when Jamie returned downstairs without Martha in tow. "Where's your Mum?"
"In bed, trying to catch up on her sleep," the boy answered, crossing to join his father on the sofa. "She said she's only had three hours sleep."
The Time Lord glanced across at the clock on the wall. "It's not like your Mum to be out until the early hours," he observed, lifting the boy into his lap and ruffling the mop of hair Jamie had inherited from him. "You're getting heavy."
"I've grown two inches in two months," Jamie announced proudly. "Mum says I'm going to be a beanpole, like you." He looked at the Doctor's face and giggled at his expression.
"Beanpole," his dad repeated, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Is that how she sees me?"
"She called you a beanpole yesterday," Jamie reported.
"Huh. So, James Thomas Jones, it's your birthday tomorrow, and I've brought you a brilliant present, even if I say it myself."
"What is it?" asked Jamie excitedly.
"A crystal radio set - that is, a set to build a radio literally out of crystals."
"Can I see it?"
"Yeah, why not." The Doctor lifted the boy off his lap, then grabbed his hand and led him into the TARDIS, which was parked in her usual spot in the corner of the sitting room.
"There you go," he said, pointing at a large square box sitting in front of the captain's chair; the box was wrapped in midnight blue paper with silver stars on it. "Go on, open it," the Doctor urged, leaning back against the edge of the console, his hands shoved into the pockets of his brown pinstripe suit.
Jamie stood with one hand on the top of the box and looked up at his dad, curiosity warring with caution in his deep brown eyes. "It's not my birthday until tomorrow," he said. "Mum says I mustn't open my presents until the day."
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, normally I'd agree with your Mum, but you did say she was trying to catch up on her sleep, didn't you?" Jamie nodded, his eyes wide. "Well then, she'll want us to be quiet, and if we're building this, we'll be nice and quiet, and then she'll be happy when she wakes up." The Time Lord tilted his head, looking down at his son with a grin.
"Okay!" The boy gave him a conspiratorial smile back.
The Doctor's grin widened. "That's my boy!" he exclaimed happily. "Come on, let's go and set this up on the kitchen table."
"I want a piggyback," Jamie said. "Please?"
His dad chuckled. "Go on then." He crossed to the seat and set the box down there, then waited while Jamie climbed up.
"Turn around please," he instructed.
The Doctor turned his back and bent his knees slightly, and a small pair of arms circled his neck. He reached behind him and grabbed the boy's legs, pulling them around his waist.
"Now, hold on tight, because if you slip, I won't be able to catch you," the Doctor said seriously, turning to pick up the box.
"Okay."
"Ack! Not so tight you cut off my air supply, thank you," gasped the Time Lord as his son's arms tightened their grip.
"Sorry, Dad." He loosened his grip slightly, then giggled as the Doctor shouted 'Hup, hup!" and set off across the console room and down the ramp.
They settled themselves side by side at the kitchen table, Jamie standing on his chair to unwrap the box.
"Don't you ever want to just tear off the paper?" the Doctor asked curiously.
His son turned and gave him the sort of look he was more used to receiving from Martha when she thought he was being too alien. "Silly daddy," he admonished, before turning back to his task, leaving the Time Lord feeling bemused.
The box was soon unwrapped and the Doctor carefully folded up the wrapping paper, then helped Jamie to pull open the flaps on the top of the box. The boy's eyes lit up when he saw the Styrofoam-style packing inside and he plunged his hands in until his arms disappeared up to the elbows, which caused him to giggle as he paddled his hands about in the stuff.
"How old are you?" asked the Time Lord with a chuckle.
"Eleven tomorrow," Jamie answered, turning and sticking his tongue out.
"Oi!" his Dad exclaimed. "Does your Mum approve of you doing that?"
"No," he admitted. He pulled something out of the box, then gasped in awe when he saw he'd grabbed a deep blue crystal.
"Gently, now," the Doctor said quietly.
He watched with an intense feeling pleasure as Jamie unpacked the crystals, his mind flashing back three years to the day when he and Martha had first found out that he was Jamie's father.
* * * * * *
Three years ago
The Doctor took the TARDIS to Martha's house while she and her mother dealt with the doctors at the hospital and arranged for his discharge. When Martha pulled up outside the house the Time Lord pushed himself away from the wall against which he'd been lounging, and crossed to the car. He opened the door and helped Jamie clamber out of the backseat, then remained holding the door for Francine, who gave him a rather bemused look.
"I don't know about anyone else, but I could murder a cuppa," Martha said, carefully avoiding both her mother's and the Doctor's eyes as she held out a hand to her son.
"A nice superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin," the Doctor said, smacking his lips enthusiastically, earning himself another bemused look from Francine, and a stern one from Martha.
Jamie giggled. "You talk funny," he said, grinning up at the Time Lord.
"No funnier than you Master James Thomas Jones," he answered, scooping the small boy up and dangling him above his head.
Jamie giggled even more helplessly at this treatment.
"Put him down, Doctor, please. I don't want him throwing up," Martha said quietly.
"Aw, is your Mum being a spoilsport?" he asked, lowering Jamie back down to the ground as she unlocked the front door.
"No, Mum is being a mother and a doctor, and quite practical, as usual," Martha said, ushering them indoors.
The Time Lord pouted a bit, then subsided when he caught sight of Francine's disapproving expression.
Jamie yawned suddenly and unselfconsciously. "Will you tuck me in please, Nana?" he asked.
"Are you going to bed?" Francine asked, surprised.
"Need a nap," he said, blinking owlishly up at her.
"Very well."
He turned to Martha for a hug, smiled up at the Doctor, then slid his hand into Francine's and headed upstairs, leaving Martha and the Doctor to go into the kitchen.
As she helped Jamie into his pyjamas, then folded back the duvet, with its rockets, planets and astronauts cover, Francine asked. "Do you like the Doctor?"
"Yes. He's a nice man and he made my head better. He likes my Mum, too."
Her head jerked round at his words and she stared at him as he settled himself comfortably, his left arm wrapped tightly around his toy giraffe. Jamie's eyes closed and he didn't see the stern expression on his grandmother's face as she processed the information he had offered so guilelessly. She thought of the Doctor's almost fatherly expression when he and Martha had brought Jamie back onto the ward earlier, and his behaviour just now; then she thought of Martha's change in manner eight years ago, after she had been visited by the Doctor at Francine's own suggestion. Suddenly one and one seemed to add up to three, not two.
"Sleep well, Jamie," she said softly, bending over and kissing his forehead, then his cheek.
"Nigh-night Nana," he whispered back.
Francine stalked downstairs and into the kitchen where she found Martha and the Doctor sitting either side of the table, mugs in front of them, and a teapot under a cosy between them. The Doctor got up to offer her his chair.
"How dare you," she hissed, then slapped his left cheek, just as she had so many years ago.
"Mum!" Martha exclaimed, horrified.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Martha Jones?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest and glaring down at her daughter. She ignored the Doctor, who was cradling his cheek, which now sported bright red fingermarks.
Martha sighed. "Tom's not Jamie's dad, the Doctor is," she said.
"And just when were you planning on telling me?" Francine demanded angrily.
"Now, actually," her daughter answered. "I didn't tell you before because I didn't know before. Jamie's cataleptic state was caused by his mind being overwhelmed telepathically. The Doctor has taught him how to shield his mind, but until he gets used to doing it, he's going to need us to keep a close eye on him."
"And to think I rang you for your help," Francine said angrily, turning her attention to the Time Lord.
"Mum! It's not entirely the Doctor's fault.
Francine sat down abruptly in the chair the Doctor had vacated for her; the Time Lord moved away, leaning against the sink unit with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
"What are we going to do?" Francine asked.
"Much the same as ever," Martha answered, "only now Jamie will have his dad around occasionally."
"You're not going to live together?"
"No," Martha said promptly. "The Doctor can't stay tied to the Earth for long periods, when he's needed elsewhere. Besides, you and I have brought Jamie up between us without any major problems. He's a happy, well-adjusted child, all things considered."
"I'll be making regular visits to see him and Martha," the Doctor said. "I'll teach him about my people so he doesn’t grow up in complete ignorance of the other half of his heritage, but he's promised not to go around telling the other children that his dad's an alien."
"So you're not going to take Martha and Jamie away, and go careering about in that ship of yours?" Francine asked anxiously.
"Definitely not," her daughter answered emphatically. "He's much too young and it'd be far too dangerous." Francine smirked. "What?" asked Martha.
"It's easy to see who's going to be wearing the trousers in your relationship," he mother said.
The Doctor looked away, apparently discomfited by her humour.
"Well, who has the most experience of bringing up a small boy?" asked Martha, smiling at the Time Lord.
"You do," he agreed. "But I hope you'll let me help now that I know about Jamie."
"Yes, we will. Won't we Mum?"
Francine sighed at her daughter's pointed expression. "Yes. I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy about the situation," she said, "because I'm not. But what's done is done."
"Thank you Mrs Jones."
"Have you told Jamie yet?" she asked.
"Yes. We told him once he had recovered from the catalepsy. He seemed to take it in his stride, but the Doctor's going to stay around for a couple of days in case Jamie has any questions."
Francine nodded. "All right. I'm going to go home. I've things to do after spending most of the last three days at the hospital. I'll bring Jamie's homework stuff back over later."
"Thanks Mum."
* * * * * *
Now
The Doctor reflected that his relationship with Francine Jones had remained cordial during the last three years, but it had never become warmer. On the other hand, she'd never felt the need to slap him again, which was a definite plus as far as he was concerned.
"Dad, what comes next?" asked Jamie, giving him an expectant look; he had removed all the crystals from the box, together with a circuit diagram and various other bits and pieces, and set everything out neatly on the table.
"First, I get rid of this," the Doctor said, taking the box off the table and putting it on the floor. "Then you take a look at the circuit diagram and see if you can work out where everything goes. I'm going to watch and make sure you don't go wrong, because I don't think your Mum will be happy if anything gets blown up, do you?"
"No. Mum says 'blowing things up is rarely necessary'," Jamie told him in a solemn tone as he repeated his mother's words. "But I like bangs." His whisper was confidential and his eyes bright with amusement.
The Doctor chuckled. "I bet she did say that, too. I suspect you'd have got on well with Ace - she liked bangs too. And for her blowing things up was a very desirable outcome. She felt cheated otherwise."
"Who's Ace?" Jamie asked. "Can I meet her?" He looked up from the circuit diagram he was unfolding with an eager expression that reminded the Doctor of Martha when they had arrived somewhere new during their travels.
"Ace used to travel with me a long time ago," the Time Lord answered. "But I've lost touch with her since, so it would be hard for you to meet her."
"Oh." Jamie looked so disappointed by this that the Doctor immediately found himself trying to think of a way to cheer him up.
"Do you want to go on a trip in the TARDIS as a birthday treat?" the Doctor asked.
His son look at him with shining eyes. "Can I?" He sounded as if he didn't quite believe the Doctor's offer.
"Yep! When your Mum's awake again, though, 'cos I think she might scalp me if we went without her."
Jamie began giggling. "You'd look funny with no hair," he said, breathless with laughter.
The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "I would," he agreed.
"Mum says your hair is your biggest vanity," his son said, with a smirk not unlike Martha's.
"Oh does she? What else does your Mum say about me?" He spread out the circuit diagram flat on the table and began sorting through the crystals.
"That you shouldn't travel alone because you need a friend to watch your back and someone to hold your hand when you run away from the bad guys."
Jamie glanced down at the circuit diagram, then picked up the big blue crystal he'd first taken from the box, setting it carefully in the right position. As the Doctor watched he picked up a deep purple crystal and placed it at a distance of exactly six inches from the blue one.
"Mum says you need friends to travel with you to remind you that you're a man, not a god. Are you lonely?" he asked, giving the Time Lord a piercing look.
"Quite often," the Doctor answered, reluctantly. He would rather not have admitted that, but he had found that he disliked lying to his son: the knowledge that he'd told Martha half-truths or downright lies in the past weighed heavily on his conscience, and he'd made Jamie a silent promise never to lie to him as he had to Martha.
He watched as Jamie continued to the assemble the crystals in the correct configuration without giving the diagram a second glance, and he wondered if the boy had an eidetic memory.
Half an hour later all the crystals were in place and aligned as precisely as if they'd been set out with a ruler.
"Well done son," the Doctor said, his voice full of pride.
"How do I make it work?" asked Jamie.
"You'll need this." The Time Lord held out a long silver object.
"A sonic screwdriver?" asked his son, taking it with an almost reverent expression.
"Yup!" The Doctor grinned at him. "I made that one for Martha, but you can have a go with it first."
"Thanks Dad!" Jamie took the device and, without needing to be told, activated it and pointed it at the big blue crystal in the centre of the circuit.
Immediately the whole house was filled with the sound of Meatloaf's 'Bat out of Hell' being played at full blast.
"Uh-oh!" exclaimed Jamie, clapping his hands over his ears.
The Doctor whipped out his own sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the blue crystal, silencing the music just as a pyjama-clad Martha appeared in the doorway, an expression of annoyance on her face.
"Sorry Mum," Jamie said immediately.
"Sorry Martha."
"I'd appreciate it if you could keep the din down to a dull roar, please," she said, sounding cross. "I'm going to shower and get dressed since getting any more sleep is obviously out of the question." She walked away, and Jamie and the Doctor exchanged guilty looks.
"We should make some coffee for Mum," the boy suggested.
"And make you some breakfast," the Doctor said, just as his son's stomach rumbled, which made them both laugh.
"Right, let's see if we can pack this lot away, and get the breakfast things out, before your Mum comes back."
"She usually takes 15.5 minutes in the shower, and 9.7 minutes to get dressed," Jamie informed him as he picked up the nearest crystal to put it back into the box.
"You've timed her?" the Time Lord asked, not really sure what answer he expected.
"Only in my head," his son answered.
The Doctor shook his head slightly: being able to measure time in that way was perfectly normal for Time Lords, but he hadn't been sure that Jamie had inherited the ability.
"Okay. By your reckoning we've got at least twenty five minutes to get everything sorted out, so let's do it, and then maybe your Mum won't be so cross."
As the two of them cleared the crystal radio set from the table, laid it with a white and pale blue checked tablecloth (which Martha usually reserved for special occasions because the linen was hard to keep clean with a small boy in the house), then set out the breakfast things, the Doctor wondered why Martha had been so late home, and if it was simply that, and his earlier-than-intended arrival, that had made her cross. He decided that it might not be a good idea to confess that he'd arrived twelve hours earlier than he'd actually intended.
"Mum will be down in one minute," Jamie suddenly informed him, nearly twenty five minutes later.
His dad lifted an eyebrow enquiringly, intrigued. "How do you know that?"
"She told me," he said simply.
The Doctor looked at him in amazement. "How?"
Jamie gave him an 'isn't-it-obvious' look. "Telepathically. She said, 'Jamie, I'll be down in a minute'."
The Time Lord abruptly realised that there were any number of things that he didn't know about his son's development as a human-Time Lord hybrid, and he foresaw that he would soon need to sit down and talk to the boy properly.
"Can you hear me?" he asked.
Jamie shook his head. "I can tell if you're happy or sad - or worried. I might be able to hear you if you talked to me directly, like Mum does." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Why are you often worried when you come to see us? Is it because the bad guys might be causing trouble when you're visiting us?"
"I worry about a lot of things," the Doctor said, then realised that Martha was standing in the doorway, and that he had no idea how long she'd been there.
"Hello Martha," he said quietly.
"Hello Doctor." She looked at the table, then back at him. "Trying to make up for dragging me out of bed?" she asked, smirking at him.
"Um, yes." He admitted sheepishly.
"Thank you." She stepped into the kitchen and he held out his arms to her, a question in his eyes.
"Daft alien," she said affectionately, allowing him to hug her, then laughing when he picked her up off her feet.
"Breakfast?" he suggested, the corners of his eyes and mouth crinkling with laughter.
"Yes please." She looked at Jamie, who was sitting waiting patiently for his parents to finish greeting each other.
"Morning Jamie." She held out her arms and he immediately scrambled off his chair to give her a hug.
"Sorry we woke you up, Mum," he said.
Martha ruffled his hair. "It's okay. You know what your Dad's sense of timing is like."
"Oi!" protested the Doctor, pouting, which just set mother and son giggling at him.
They sat down together to eat breakfast and share their latest news.
"Why were you so late home?" asked the Doctor when they'd nearly finished eating. "Jamie said you didn't get home until the early hours."
"UNIT," Martha said. "We've had an outbreak of Tarellian Flu, and I've spent the last three days trying to synthesise antiviral drugs to deal with it. I finished at one this morning, then stayed to see it administered to everyone, and that it was working, before I drove home." She ate another mouthful of cereal and fruit. "Mum's been here looking after Jamie for me."
"Mum didn't come home for two nights!" Jamie said, his eyes wide. "She was too busy trying to make everyone well again."
"I'm sorry about that love," Martha said, reaching across the corner of the table to stroke his cheek. "I missed you."
He gave her a solemn look. "You did what you had to do," he said quietly. "You always do."
She pulled a face. "That makes me sound like some kind of sanctimonious do-gooder," she said.
"Rubbish!" said the Doctor instantly. "It makes you sound like the hero you are."
Sensing his Mum's discomfort at this remark, Jamie jumped in. "Mum, Dad said we can go on a trip in the TARDIS to celebrate my birthday."
"Did he?" she said, looking daggers at the Time Lord.
"I thought we could go to the Eye of Orion," he said quickly. "It'll be nice and quiet there."
"Jamie, if you've finished your breakfast go and have a shower and get dressed. Wear your black jeans, and make sure you bring a jumper because it gets chilly there."
He looked from his Mum's stormy expression to his Dad's guilty one. "Are you sending me away so you can have a row?" he asked.
Martha raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm asking you to go and get dressed so you're ready to go on this trip."
"Yes Mum." He went out and upstairs to his room. He knew he couldn't read the Doctor's emotions quite as easily as his Mum's, but he reckoned he'd know if they were arguing, even if they didn't shout.
Down in the kitchen the Doctor was studying his empty mug as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen in an attempt to avoid the accusation in Martha's eyes.
"You're a devious one," she said, beginning to gather up the breakfast things.
"Devious?" he asked, surprised.
"Offering Jamie a trip in the TARDIS when I wasn't there to veto it, and for his birthday too, so that I can't tell him he can't go without looking mean."
"It wasn't like that Martha," he said quickly, getting to his feet to help her. "We were talking about not blowing up things, and I mentioned Ace, who travelled with my seventh self. Jamie asked if he could meet her, and I had to say no because I lost touch with her just before the Time War. He seemed so disappointed that I offered him a trip in the TARDIS to cheer him up."
The Doctor put the last of the breakfast crockery on the counter as Martha began running the hot water to wash up. "I'm sorry, Martha, I wasn't thinking. Jamie hasn't asked me for much these last three years, and it hurt to refuse him one of the few things he has ever requested from me."
"I understand," she answered. "But please, in future, we have to discuss these things before you go making offers willy-nilly, okay?"
He touched two fingers to his temple in salute. "Yes ma'am."
Martha shook her head, but he could see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and he stepped behind her to wrap his arms around her middle.
"For what it's worth, I think you're doing a brilliant job of bringing up our son," he told her softly.
"Thank you."
"You didn't tell me before that you talk to him telepathically," he observed, his arms still around her as she washed up.
"That's because we hadn't started doing it the last time you were here," Martha answered.
Something in the tone of her voice made him feel wary. "How long is it since you saw me?"
"Three months, more or less," she answered.
"Ah." He freed an arm to rub nervously at the back of his neck.
"How long has it been for you?"
Behind her the Doctor scrunched up his face unseen as he counted. "Six weeks." He frowned. "We need to get back in synch," he said. "I honestly thought it would be six weeks for the two of you as well."
* * * * * *
Part 2