BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Rose jerked awake, and scrunched up her face, rolling away from the Doctor's inviting warmth to smack her hand down on the alarm clock. Seven o' clock, Rose thought dryly, was far too early to be getting up - in any circumstances. She pushed her cheek into her pillow for a moment, exhaling heavily, before she rolled back over and sat up.

Her eyes fell on the Doctor, where he lay sprawled on his back beside her, mouth open and eyes closed in blissful sleep. Rose grinned and leant over him, until her hair tickled his bare chest, but he didn't notice. She just watched him sleep, studying it. They had shared a bed for weeks now, but she couldn't get over the sight of him sleeping; it was awe-inspiring.

"Doctor," she said firmly, though grinning. "Time to wake up," she continued.

The Doctor's face immediately screwed up, and he raised the arm that had been lying over the side of the bed and bent the crook of his elbow over his eyes. "Still tired," he grumbled, pouting a bit. "Human body needs more sleep," he added, both in negotiation and complaint. "Ten more minutes?" he tried hopefully, the corners of his mouth tilting up.

Rose laughed under her breath, pushing the duvet away from them. When the heat faded away, she gave a pout of her own, but quickly tucked her legs under herself and pushed her palms against the Doctor's ribs, just under his arm, and began to push him toward the edge of the bed. "Up you get," she threatened, amusement playing on her tired features.

The Doctor yelped, uncurled his arm from over his head and grabbed for Rose, for the duvet, for the pillow or the headboard, as he went tumbling toward the floor. He caught Rose by the elbow, and both of them went shouting to the floor in a heap. A second later, she was lying on top of him, grinning, both of them half naked, and he was propped up on the heels of his hands, annoyed with being awake so early.

Of course, usually, they slept in. Rose had dropped her job at Torchwood, being sick of it and having no reason to continue, and the Doctor was content to freeload off Pete and Jackie for a while, at least until he was settled with being human.

Today was different, though. Last night, they had taken Jackie and Pete to the airport, where Rose's parents had flown to Barcelona - not the planet, the city in Spain - for a holiday. They deserved it, really, after all they put up with, what with him being the Director at Torchwood, and her always having to look after Tony. Rose hadn't hesitated to say yes when they'd asked her to take care of Tony while they went on a vacation.

"Can we still have ten more minutes?" The Doctor asked cheekily, mischief leaking into his voice as he stared down at Rose's trouser-less body atop his.

Rose flashed him a smile, but quickly climbed to her feet. "Come on, get up," she told him, laughing, marching over to the dresser and pulling open a drawer. "We have two hours to get showered, dressed, get Tony up, dressed, fed, and get him to nursery on time."

The Doctor got up and marched into the en-suite bathroom. "Meet you in the shower," he called out cheerfully behind him, leaving the bathroom door open.

Rose glanced over her shoulder to see him peeking out of the door, grinning at her, eyebrows doing a suggestive little dance, and she quickly caught on, grabbing her tank top and pulling it off. She threw it to the floor and joined her Doctor in the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind her.

Ten minutes? Make that thirty-six.

After a pleasant - and loud - half-hour in the shower, the two emerged from the bathroom and got dressed inside of five minutes, before exploding out of the bedroom and dashing for their different destinations - Rose to the nursery next to their bedroom, and the Doctor to the Kitchen. They hadn't realized how long their escapade in the shower had been until they'd finished, and now they only had an hour and a half to get Tony fed, dressed and ready for school.

"You get Tony up - I'll get breakfast sorted!" the Doctor shouted, grabbing the banister and splitting off down the stairs toward the kitchen.

"Got it!" Rose answered loudly, bolting to the nursery room, where Tony slept. She reached the door, threw it open and burst into the room.

Thankfully, Tony was a heavy sleeper, so he didn't even stir in his cot when Rose tripped on a large plastic toy car, squeaked in surprise and gripped the door handle to keep herself from falling down. It took a moment to regain her footing, but when she did, Rose drew a breath and moved over to the cot. The two-year old was sprawled out on his stomach, one arm stretched out toward one of the wooden bars of the cot, his tiny fingers wrapped around it, his plush blanket kicked away in his sleep.

Rose smiled brightly and reached into the cot, gently shaking Tony's shoulder. "Tony," she said softly, as Tony screwed up his face tiredly. "Come on, Tony, wake up." The toddler rolled gracelessly onto his back, and stared blearily at his (much) older sister. He stretched both his arms over his head. "Morning, you," Rose greeted.

Tony was only barely stringing words into sentences, but he had this one down. "Mo-nin," he replied, sitting up and rubbing his eyes clumsily, his brown curls wildly pushed up on one side of his head, flattened against his sweaty temple on the other. Rose reached into the cot, stuck her hands under his arms and picked him up.

He nearly went back to sleep as Rose held him and carried him out of the room, pushing his face into her neck and yawning loudly. He would be easier to get dressed when he was fully awake, Rose had decided, and he could wake up fully while he ate his breakfast - two birds, one stone. Rose carried him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where the Doctor was adding a half of a slice of buttered toast to a small plate of food for Tony, the other half protruding from his mouth as he worked.

After a taste of beans from Pete plate, one night, Tony had refused to eat anything from a jar. No baby food. Oh, Jackie had tried to feed it to him - it was so much easier to heat up a jar of baby mulch than it was to make a plate up for Tony - but with little success.

Rose dragged the high chair over to the kitchen island and put the groggy toddler into it, buckling him in and snapping down the small plastic tabletop in front of him. The Doctor put down the plastic 'Thomas the Tank Engine' plate in front of Tony, and swiped the cloth bib that was hanging on its corner, before pulling it over Tony's head. Rose pulled over a barstool and set about feeding Tony.

"Poor thing, he's half asleep," the Doctor mused, glancing from Tony's tired, lolling head and confused gaze, back to the oven. "What about you, are you hungry?" he smiled, a hand reaching up to push back his wet hair so that it didn't drip onto the stove.

Rose was distracted for a moment, as Tony tried to take the plastic fork from her hand instead of eating the forkful of egg on its end. "Come on, Tony," she murmured under her breath, before she screwed up her face and answered, without looking over, "Huh? No, I'm fine. I can wait. We could get McDonalds after we drop Tony off, yeah?" she suggested hopefully.

The Doctor winced slightly, looking over to Tony, expecting the toddler to stop eating and wail for McDonalds as he had done a few times before. Tony didn't seem to have heard Rose, much to the Doctor's relief. With a brief grimace, the Doctor replied, "McDonalds doesn't do tea - and you know I can't stand coffee," he reminded her, pulling a face.

Rose hummed thoughtfully, as she finally got Tony to eat off the end of the fork. "They've got orange juice," she replied thoughtfully, offering a substitute. "Orange juice with breakfast, that's like red wine with steak," she smirked to herself, but it immediately dropped when Tony snatched the fork from her hand, splattering egg yolk down his bib. "Oh, pass the …" she turned to the Doctor, to see him coming over with the designated wiping cloth in hand. She grinned up at him.

"Joose," Tony suddenly said, grinning too as the Doctor wiped at the bib, "On-joose?" he insisted, kicking his feet under the counter and waving the plastic fork in his hand.

"Oh, I think there's orange juice in the fridge," the Doctor said quickly, and expertly leant forward, reaching out with his foot and catching the door of the fridge, pulling it open with his toes. The door swung open, but the Doctor was too busy wiping Tony up to glance into the fridge.

"On-joose," Tony repeated, reaching with his fork for the Doctor, probably in the hopes of wiping it on the Doctor's dark blue t-shirt.

"Yes, I'll get you some juice in a moment, Tony," the Doctor replied, shifting out of the way of Tony's swinging fork and mopping up the yolk on his bib, careful not to get it on his hand. Tony squirmed, trying to bat him away with the fork and throwing his head back, whining indignantly.

Rose spotted the orange juice, hopped off her seat and ducked under the Doctor to get it for the toddler. "I got it," she told him, catching the door with one hand to stop it swinging into the counter, and grabbing the carton of juice. She spun for the eye-level cupboard, swung it open and grabbed a small green beaker from the lower shelf. Mum had said something about watering juice down for Tony, hadn't she?

"He'll be hyper if you give it to him straight," the Doctor reminded Rose, practically reading her mind. "Then again, he'll be at nursery so it's not our problem. He'll bounce off the walls for Julia, and then be too knackered to give us a hard time later on," he gave a mischievous smirk, pulling away from Tony and turning back to Rose, who was already watering down the juice in the beaker.

"Yeah, in theory," she laughed under her breath, "But I'm not gonna be the one who didn't do what Mum said," she popped the top onto the beaker and placed it in front of Tony, who was now dutifully shoveling his own food into his mouth, a piece of bacon hanging down his chin. She smiled happily, hoping that he would just feed himself.

The Doctor crossed from the kitchen island to where Rose was leaning against the sink, and reached under her arms to run the wiping cloth under the faucet, catching the tap in one hand and holding the cloth in the other. Unable to help himself, he smiled at her and caught her lips for a quick kiss. Rose's hands found his shoulders and she smiled into this kiss.

Tony suddenly giggled from where he was sitting. Pulling back slightly, the two glanced over to the toddler, to see him watching them intently, grinning as if they were the funniest things on Earth. Rose furrowed her brow, the corners of her mouth still tilted up, but the Doctor grinned just the same and put another kiss to Rose's lips. Tony laughed again, this time wildly, smacking his small hand against the plastic tabletop in front of him and throwing his head back.

Rose laughed against the Doctor's lips. "He thinks it's funny," she realized, amused.

The Doctor hummed happily in his throat, eyes fixed on hers and grinning, before he moved his head aside to look over her shoulder at the water running over the cloth in his hand. He wrung the cloth dry and turned off the faucet, distracted for a moment as Rose slipped out from between him and the counter, moving over toward Tony. The Doctor dried his hands on the towel beside the sink, throwing his eyes over his shoulder to see Rose heading for the door out into the hallway.

"Where you going?" he asked suddenly, curiously.

"Gotta get some clothes for 'im," Rose answered, raising her voice to be heard as she disappeared behind the wall, "Can't take him to playgroup in his onesie, can we?" she chuckled, her voice carrying through the echo-ey hallway back into the kitchen. The Doctor heard her running up the stairs to the nursery, and then turned his attention to Tony.

On the subject of changing, the Doctor mused grimly, if he remembered correctly, the last time Tony had had his nappy changed had been last night - before Rose had put him to bed. Tony was now just prodding at his food, seeming to have eaten as much as he was going to. The Doctor drew a breath and exhaled, clapping his hands loudly. Tony looked up at him.

"Right then, kiddo," he approached the highchair, took off his bib and expertly unbuckled the toddler, tucking his hands under Tony's arms and plucking him out of his seat, "Suppose I should change your nappy, if me and Rose are going to be taking it in turns 'til Jackie and Pete get back. She did it last night," he settled Tony into a one-armed grip and carried him out into the hall, ducking into the hallway, where he remembered the diaper bag being.

"No!" Tony suddenly yelped, whapping eggy hands against the Doctor's shirt and smacking at him. "Go 'way!" he growled, balling tiny fists and swinging for the Doctor's face.

"Oi! Stop it!" the Doctor said sharply, tilting his head away from Tony as tiny fingernails scratched at his recently-shaven jaw. Tony suddenly grabbed hold of the Doctor's upper arm with his pudgy fingers and dropped onto it with his milk teeth bared, biting hard on the skin and the shirt over it. "Ow!" the Doctor shouted out, holding on tighter to Tony to make sure he didn't accidentally drop him. "Tony!" he barked out, reprimanding.

In the living room, the Doctor found the changing mat on the floor and kicked it over to the sofa, eyes searching for the diaper bag as he sat down and lowered Tony to the mat. As soon as Tony was on the mat, he tried to scramble to his feet, so the Doctor was faced with holding the toddler down while waiting for assistance. Tony kicked and whined, "Go 'way! No! Mummy!"

"Rose! Bit of help, maybe?!" the Doctor cried out, as he heard Rose jogging down the stairs. He was quite confused, really. He'd changed nappies before, had had children of his own before - but Tony was a completely different experience.

Children usually loved the Doctor. And he had been a complete angel for Rose, last night! Tony's bare foot kicked out for the Doctor's shins where the human-alien sat on the couch, leaning over the toddler. Rose appeared behind the sofa, holding a set of clothes for the toddler. "Oh, thanks," she exhaled, smiling briefly, "I completely forgot about changing him."

The Doctor waved her off - it was nothing - but then asked, "Where's the nappy bag? It was in here, wasn't it?" he looked about, holding the wriggling baby down while being careful to avoid the sharp milk teeth of Tony Tyler.

Rose swung out of the Doctor's view for a few moments, before returning with the bag he sought, dropping it beside him on the sofa. "Sorry, I hid it in the cupboard last night 'cause he was trying to eat the Sudocrem," she snorted a laugh, watching as the Doctor struggled to unsnap the onesie that Tony had slept in. Rose bit at her lower lip, not wanting to offer help unless the Doctor asked.

The Doctor's brow furrowed in frustration, as he pulled the onesie off of Tony, who grabbed hold of it, pulling it back. "Tony, stop it!" he snapped, his voice bordering on an irritated growl, with a desperate plea hidden underneath his annoyance. This only made Tony more irate, and the Doctor pried the toddler's fingers off the onesie he clung to.

"No! Go 'way!" Tony clutched for the onesie as it slipped from his fingers, and kicked his pudgy feet at the Doctor's shins some more. "Muuuuuhh-meeeeee!"

The Doctor grunted under his breath, trying to push the swinging arms and legs out of his way so he could change Tony's nappy, but then he paused, removed his hands from the toddler and turned to look at Rose. "Maybe you should do it. He doesn't like me," he exhaled, defeated.

Rose blinked at the Doctor with only a mildly surprised expression on her face. "No, no, you do it. Otherwise I'll have to do it until Mum and Pete get back," she insisted, brow furrowed a little bit. Tony was lying on the mat now, still, staring at the Doctor with a scowl on his young face. "Look, he's stopped now."

The Doctor frowned and shook his head, "He's just gonna kick a fuss again if I try to change him."

Then Rose grinned at him, dropping her elbows onto the back of the sofa. "So bargain with him. That's what you're best at, isn't it, Doctor?" she pushed her brows up expectantly. The Doctor stared back at her, considered for a moment, then turned back to face Tony, thinking.

"Um," the Doctor began, and Rose felt herself smiling fondly at him, "Tony, I have to change your nappy," he announced seriously, and cringed at the way Tony immediately looked murderous - or as close to murderous as a toddler could get - before looking back to Rose, who nodded, urging him on. "But," the Doctor tilted his head, his tone negotiable, "if you stay still and let me, you can … have some chocolate?" he suggested hopefully. "Okay?"

Tony blinked at the Doctor for a second, as if he didn't believe him. Then his scowl dropped. "Okay," the toddler allowed reluctantly.

The Doctor gave a brilliant grin, and the next time he moved to unstrap Tony's nappy, there was no resistance. Quickly and efficiently, he took off the soiled diaper, wiped Tony clean, wrapped the wipes up in the dirty nappy and flung it across the room, straight into the nappy bin in the corner. Tony laughed, impressed, and the Doctor replaced the nappy with a clean one.

Rose quickly took over, getting Tony into his green jungle shirt and dinosaur overalls, while the Doctor got up and went back to the kitchen to wash his hands and find some chocolate. The Doctor returned with a few chocolate buttons in his hand, which distracted Tony long enough for Rose to slip some tiny socks onto his feet and then push on his Buzz Light-Year trainers.

"Right then! Into the car!" The Doctor breathed triumphantly, as he plucked Tony up from the floor and held him on his hip. He shot a grin Rose's way, then glanced at the watch on his wrist - he hadn't needed one before being human - and chuckled. "Half an hour to spare. Good work, team," he passed Rose, his free hand reaching out and catching hers briefly. "Now, where's the car seat?"

"In the car," Rose answered helpfully, grinning at him.

The Doctor's smile faltered a bit. "Right. Of course," he shook his head and laughed weakly at his own dullness.

Twenty minutes later, Tony was at nursery, and the Doctor and Rose were sitting in their shared car - a TARDIS-blue, five-seated vintage-style roadster with automatic roof function, built from the inside out by Torchwood as a 'Welcome To Our Universe' present for the Doctor - parked in the sunshine with a McMuffin and a bottle of orange juice each, watching the playground of the primary school across the street.

"Tony'll be playing here in a few years," Rose mused thoughtfully, taking a sip from the small plastic bottle of juice in her hand. From where she sat in the passenger's seat, she glanced over to the Doctor, who was biting into his muffin, and staring out at the playground. "Hopefully he won't bite any of the other kids," she teased, reaching out and poking the Doctor's arm.

The Doctor shot her an indignant look and then pouted, covering his arm with a palm. "Oi! I'll have you know that it really hurt!" he complained, rubbing at the spot on his arm where Tony had sunk in his teeth. Then he smiled, taking a sip of his orange juice.

Rose only tilted her head back and laughed. "Baby," she chuckled, before rolling her head aside to look at him. "So, what you want to do today? We've got the day to ourselves until two o' clock, then we have to pick Tony up. It's nine o'clock now - that's five hours. How far d'you reckon we could go in two and a half hours?" she grinned hopefully.

The Doctor pushed his tongue thoughtfully into the space between his teeth and his cheek and pushed one brow up roguishly. Rose didn't know, for a moment, if he was thinking about what she'd asked, of if he had heard her at all. "You know," he said suddenly, looking over to her, smiling warmly, "We could get married."

Rose stared at him for a moment, unsure that she'd heard right. "Pardon?" she suddenly sputtered, her cheeks tinting pink.

The Doctor shrugged suddenly. "I mean, not … we don't have to. Just an idea," he looked away, clearing his throat. "I was just … thinking. We could get married one day," he found himself smiling happily, "And then we could have kids of our own. I sort of miss being a dad," he allowed mildly, sounding bittersweet. "Running about after Tony today, it was a bit like being a dad again."

Rose watched him, her expression blank and considerate. She swallowed against the dry feeling in her throat, then took a sip of her juice, nodding slowly. Then she grinned at him, reaching out and catching his hand where it sat beside his thigh. "So the domestic approach isn't so bad, then?" she teased cheekily.

The Doctor looked over at her, brows pushing upward, and then smiled, laughing slightly. "I suppose not," then he let a cheeky expression of his own onto his face, "You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask one," Rose countered, smirking.

"Marry me," the Doctor beamed at her.

Rose grinned, her tongue poking out between her teeth. "If you insist."