Author's Notes: I do not own Doctor Who. So, this is another story set in the 2012 segment of the Regarding Mrs Smith ficverse, two years after Any Other World. Basically, I missed ginger Time Babies. Also, I know nothing about nursery school. I did what I could. Hope you enjoy. Happy reading!

2009

Donna Smith loved everything about being a mum. Most especially, her baby. Probably not the least, finally being invited to lunches with her mum friends with their babies in tow.

Zara was three months now, sitting up and looking around. Beatrice's twins ran wild around the restaurant. Veena's son was a screaming, vomiting mess causing a pause in the conversation whenever he ruined something. Zara sat quietly in Donna's arms, occasionally cooing at something and having become the favorite of their waitress.

"Thank God they start nursery soon," said Beatrice. "Have you looked at a nursery school yet, Donna?"

"No," said Donna. "That's a while off, isn't it?"

"Oh no," said Veena. "We already have Reginald signed up at three schools and on the waitlist for two."

As the baby boy spewed yet again, Donna looked down at Zara. If he was registered, that meant other babies would be as well and Zara wasn't registered anywhere.

This weighed on Donna's mind through the rest of lunch and the ride home. Since Zara's birth, she knew she had a clever baby. Clever baby meant clever girl and a clever girl would need a good nursery school to get her to a good primary school to get her to a good secondary school to prepare her for her A levels and then off to Oxford or Cambridge. Maybe St. Andrews. Maybe Harvard or something in America, but she didn't want Zara to go that far away. Then she would have to come back, go into law or something become an MP and then obviously she would be Prime Minister, because seriously who else were they going to pick? Reginald?

Prime Minister Zara Katherine Smith-Noble. Ha. She would be the Prime Minister's mother. She would go down to the salon, casually point at the newspaper and say things like, "Did you happen to notice how my daughter solved the crisis in the NHS?" Or "Did you see how my daughter put down the Leader of the Opposition?" "Did you see my daughter at Buckingham Palace the other day?" That would shut up Nerys once and for all.

With these plans in place, she went in the house and greeted Esther. She went to find John in the office and found a note that said he was in the cellar.

She knocked on the door. "John?"

"Don't come down!"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it." Seriously, what was in that cellar? "Look, I was thinking and I thought it might just be a good idea to sign Zara up for a nursery school or two. What do you think?"

"Uh-huh. Sounds great. Really, really don't come down here."

Donna sighed. "I take it price is not an object, then? Great! Lovely chat!" She looked down at the baby. "Come on, Zara. Time to prepare for your rise to power. Probably. You could do something else, I suppose. Oh, I know! What about a chat show? You could be like Oprah."

Zara frowned.

"Oh, okay," said Donna. "We'll stick with Prime Minister. Who's going to be the prettiest, cleverest Prime Minister ever? You are! Yes, you are!"

Zara giggled as Donna took her off to the other room to start her research.

THREE YEARS LATER

WEEK BEFORE START OF AUTUMN TERM

The Doctor was in the sitting room when he noticed something very peculiar.

There was mail.

"Donna!," he shouted. "Come here! Quickly!"

Donna came in from the kitchen. "What is it?"

He pointed at the envelope on the tea table. "That!"

"Mail?"

"Yes! How did we get mail?!"

Donna groaned. "I thought there were aliens invading or something."

She walked over to the tea table and picked up the envelope. "Oh, my God, I forgot all about this."

"What?"

She looked at him. "When Zara was born, you don't remember me talking about having registered her for nursery school?"

"Why would you register Zara for nursery school?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Because I had just had a baby and wanted to make certain she had a spot in a good school. I knew she was clever."

"Well, luckily, she's a Time Baby and doesn't need that." He watched in confusion as Donna opened the envelope. "What? What are you doing?"

"I'm reading it. It looks as if the first day of school is Monday."

"Donna, what are you thinking?"

"Well, we are here for a bit-"

"No."

She ignored him interrupting. "And I think Zara could do with some interaction with children her own age and seeing as how she's already signed up-"

"No."

"Why no?"

"Donna, what if she walks in and says 'Hi, I'm a Time Lady.'"

"One, she wouldn't. Second, she's three. Third, nobody knows what a Time Lady is. They'd just think it was something she made up."

"It wouldn't be fair to her. Those children will be so far developmentally behind her-"

"What's that, Time Boy? About to say something about humans?"

The Doctor put his hands in his pockets.

"Are you sure? Because I might mention something about Time Lords being way behind humans in terms of social development. Some never seem to catch up."

"Donna, Zara doesn't need school. She's already doing advanced algebra. I was thinking of beginning some simple quantitative physics next week."

"She doesn't need the school bit, she needs to be around other children. Normal children. The last little friend she made tried to eat me," said Donna.

"I say we let Zara decide," said the Doctor.

"You think you'll automatically win?"

"I'm pretty certain."

Donna narrowed her eyes. "You're on, Time Boy." She turned back to the kitchen. "Zara! Would you come to the sitting room?"

Zara bounded in. "Yes, Mummy?"

"How would you like to go to school?," asked Donna.

"You don't need it," said the Doctor.

"You would get to go five days a week as long as we stay in London and you could play with other children your age."

"Of course, developmentally, they would bore you."

"What do you do at school?," asked Zara.

"Well, you play, you do art, you learn music-"

"I could take you to da Vinci and Beethoven right now," said the Doctor.

Zara looked at Donna. "What about you?"

"Well, I would stay here and play with Chloe and Esther and get ready for the baby. Meanwhile, you're off having fun," said Donna with a smile. "Are you worried about missing me?"

Zara nodded.

"Well, I'm always right here, aren't I? And I'll be here waiting to hear what you did at school."

FIRST DAY OF AUTUMN TERM

The Doctor couldn't believe the situation as he led Zara by the hand down King's Road. Donna had spent the day before fussing over Zara's outfit for the first day of school. After poring over the options for hours, she had settled on a blue check dress, tights, a gray cardi and baby Chuck Taylors which the Doctor thought were the only sensible part of the whole outing. Taking Zara to a school? What was Donna thinking?

"Daddy, did you go to school?," Zara asked suddenly.

"Of course I did," the Doctor answered without thinking.

"Did you like it?"

"It wasn't that sort of thing," he said.

"Oh," said Zara.

Finally, they arrived at a brick building with a red door. The Doctor saw a parade of other parents and children filing in.

"Who are they?," asked Zara.

"I think those are your classmates," the Doctor said with a grimace. He looked down to see Zara was beaming.

They arrived at the top of the steps. A young woman with a smile and a clipboard stood there.

"Welcome. And you are?"

"The Doctor and Zara Smith-Noble."

She looked. "Yes, we have Zara Smith-Noble. John Smith?"

"Yes, right, John Smith," said the Doctor.

"There's no mention of you being a doctor. I'll be sure to correct that. Zara will be with the threes, that's behind the yellow door. Miss Reddy will be her teacher." She looked down at Zara. "Now, Zara, next time you come up or down the steps you have to hold the handrail, okay?"

"Why?," asked Zara.

"Yes, why?," asked the Doctor.

"As part of the child safeguarding procedures," said the young lady, frowning at the Doctor. "You should have gotten a copy with your admission materials."

She waved them on.

"Child safeguards," said the Doctor. "Never going to learn anything in this place."

"Yellow door!," said Zara, dragging the Doctor along.

"Mister Smith!," said Miss Reddy, a young Indian woman with a kind smile. "Welcome, Zara. I'm Miss Reddy."

The Doctor frowned. "Sorry, have we met?"

"No, I spoke with your wife on the phone. She said you'd be wearing trainers and a pinstripe suit." She looked down at Zara. "Your cubby is over there with your name on it. Can you find it yourself?"

Zara pointed proudly at the cubby with her name and butterfly stickers on it.

"Well done," said Miss Reddy. "Why don't you put your things away while I chat with your dad? Can you do that?"

"Yes," said Zara. She took off her knapsack and set about putting the things in the basket.

"So," said Miss Reddy looking at the Doctor, "I had a lovely chat with your wife about Zara."

"What about her?," asked the Doctor, suspiciously.

"She said she was very bright, was already reading and doing some maths."

"Some," scoffed the Doctor.

"She said Zara's a natural leader."

"Oh, definitely, she started a revolution once."

Miss Reddy smiled, certain that was a joke, but not sure how. "She said you have one other daughter and a new baby on the way. That can always be a difficult transition for a child."

"Oh, I see," said the Doctor, watching as some of the children clung to their parents and wailed.

The teacher smiled warmly. "Well, some of the parents stick around the first few days, just to help the child settle in."

"Oh. Very good then." He walked over, following Zara. "What are we doing, Zara?"

Donna waited anxiously, wondering when the Doctor would bring Zara home. She was wanting to hear about how the day had gone and the thought briefly fluttered in her mind that the Doctor may have gotten sidetracked with an alien invasion or something and neglected to collect Zara. She was just about to ring the school when the Doctor arrived with Zara in tow.

"Hi, Mummy!," Zara cried running into Donna's arms.

"Hello, sweetheart," said Donna, giving her eldest a big kiss on the cheek. "How did you like school?"

"It was fun!," said Zara. "There was a bunny and toys and snacks!"

"See?," asked Donna. "I told you so. Run along and get changed. I'll make you lunch."

Zara ran off. Donna looked at the Doctor. "So, how did she do?"

"Fine," said the Doctor. "Those children are no match for her."

Donna frowned. "Did she do alright with the other children? Did she play?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I suppose so."

Donna nodded in relief. "And what happened? Did you stay the whole time?"

"Yes."

"Well, why? Did she cry or have separation anxiety or something?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No."

"Then why did you stay?"

"The other parents were."

"Zara was fine, though. You just said."

FIRST WEDNESDAY OF AUTUMN TERM

The Doctor had failed to notice the mother of the clingiest boy in the group had just left, five minutes after the start of the day. Instead, he was with the children by the duck eggs. Zara was going through them as they sat under the warmer, giving her psychic readings of each.

Zara pointed at another one. "That one's called Alistair. He's wondering when he can get out of that shell. He says it's cramped."

"What a wonderful imagination you have, Zara," said Miss Reddy.

"Imagination, ha," said the Doctor.

"So, Doctor Smith," said Miss Reddy, smile still plastered on her face, "we were just about to start story time."

The Doctor frowned. "Did you want some help?"

"Uh, no," said Miss Reddy. "I'm sure you have somewhere to be, though."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, I don't. Are we having bananas at snack time again?"

Miss Reddy made a mental note to ring Mrs. Smith.

FIRST THURSDAY OF AUTUMN TERM

Donna walked down the street to the nursery school as the Doctor pushed Zara and Chloe along in the double pushchair.

"You really didn't have to come," said the Doctor. "Zara's getting along just fine."

"I think I did," said Donna.

The Doctor pushed the girls up the ramp and Donna rang the bell. The same young woman opened the door.

"Oh, Doctor Smith," she said. "Hello. Again."

"Hi, Patsy. How's your mum's foot?," asked the Doctor.

They walked into the classroom. The Doctor was about to step forward when Donna pushed him back.

He looked at her questioningly.

"Watch," said Donna.

She walked to the front of the pushchair and pulled Zara out.

"Now, sweetheart, I want you to have a good day at school and have lots of fun. Okay?"

Zara nodded.

Donna smiled. "Good. Mummy loves you."

"I love you."

She leaned down. "Kiss."

Zara kissed her on the cheek.

"Lovely," said Donna. "Now, say goodbye to Chloe."

"Bye, Chloe," said Zara.

"And give Daddy a kiss."

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Doctor," said Donna, "give Zara a kiss."

The Doctor leaned down as Zara kissed him on the cheek. She then scampered away.

"Wait, what's happening?," asked the Doctor.

"We're leaving," said Donna.

"What?," asked the Doctor. "We can't just leave."

"Yes, we can," said Donna pushing him and the pushchair out of the classroom.

"Donna! We can't just leave Zara!"

"Look at her," said Donna, motioning through the window of the door. "She's fine."

"But, but..." the Doctor stammered.

"But what?," asked Donna.

The Doctor looked back through the window where Zara had already pulled out some blocks and was leading the other children in a construction project.

"She... she..." He looked over at Donna hopelessly. "She doesn't need me."

"Don't be daft," said Donna. "It's only three hours a day. She still needs you, but she's getting older. She's building her own world, like she should be. It means we're doing a good job."

The Doctor shook his head. "I just never thought I'd have a chance at this again and it's going so quickly..."

"It's not over yet," said Donna, taking his hand. "We've got Chloe. We've got number three on the way. Come on."

Donna pushed Chloe away as the Doctor once again looked at Zara through the window.

She had been an idea. Then the idea had come into the universe as the one of the most beautiful gingers he had ever laid eyes on. The only thing to fill the deepest hole in hearts and in his mind. Then she crawled and talked and walked and ran and now here she was, on her own.

Suddenly, Zara looked up. She smiled and waved at the Doctor. Completely smitten, he waved back. She then looked back down at the blocks and resumed her play as if she hadn't a care in the world.

He walked away. Three hours. He could do that. One hundred and eighty minutes. Ten thousand and eight hundred seconds.

He would wait in the cafe across the street.