Epilogue

Six months later

Clara sat up in bed as the Doctor's quick footsteps sounded on the stairs. She was nervous.

Oh this place, this little apartment she'd once called hers, now it was theirs, and it had meant everything. Their own special refuge when they stopped to get a breath back between journeys. His bathrobe, the one she'd gotten him for Christmas, hanging on the back of the door. His adorable, sexy Doctoring clothes in her closet. Their home. Clara was so happy, but so nervous. How was he going to react to her news?

He came bursting in, talking a mile a minute, a tray of breakfast for her in his hands. "Here we go, my love," the Doctor said, sliding the tray across her lap and pressing a kiss to her mouth. "If you can believe it, the market was completely out of portabellas and I had to use criminis. I don't know what you're going to think of the texture, but I think that with the goat's cheese, it's really quite—"

"Doctor," Clara interrupted, "I'm sure it's delicious. Thank you." He always made her breakfast in bed. If she'd let him, she suspected he'd make all of her meals and serve them to her in bed, like she was some sort of pampered sex kitten, which…maybe that had definitely become just one part of her, and Clara liked it.

"Oh, dear," the Doctor tsked, "You've got something to tell me, haven't you. I was too mean to the newspaper boy again. I shrank your pants in the wash. I forgot our anniversary. But wait, our anniversary's nowhere near, I hung your pants to dry, and that newspaper boy needs to learn how to throw. So I've got no idea, none. What is it?"

"You tend to babble, you know that, right?" Clara laughed and took his face in her hands. "I have something to tell you, yes. You know how I've been feeling a bit tired and crabby lately?"

"Nonsense," the Doctor objected. "You're charming even when you're crabby. In fact, I like you acting like I usually do on a regular basis. It's refreshing."

"Oh, for goodness sake, you're impossible. Doctor, the way I've been feeling, all run down and queasy, these are symptoms. Do they make you think of anything?" Clara carefully placed the breakfast tray on her bedside table and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him expectantly as the wheels turned in his head.

"The flu? Don't you people have injections for that, though?" The Doctor frowned. "Clara, have you not been injected?"

"Doctor!" Clara was at her wit's end. "Are you just being willfully ignorant, or has it never occurred to you that…"

His eyes grew enormous and he swallowed hard. "No."

"Yes," Clara chirped, bright-eyed, relieved he'd finally pieced it together. His hand went automatically to her stomach, already ever so slightly firmer and rounder.

"You're pregnant," the Doctor breathed, and she closed her eyes in a confused flurry of conflicted feelings, not sure if he'd be thrilled or upset for some reason.

"Yes," Clara repeated, opening one eye to see him grinning from ear to ear. He scooped her up in his arms and swung her around, the world spinning. "Oh, Doctor, slow down," Clara warned. "I'd hate to ruin the moment by getting nauseous again."

"Oh, Clara, my beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant Impossible Girl," the Doctor cheered, overjoyed. "We're going to be the best family ever."

"You're glad," Clara declared blissfully. "Thank goodness."

"Clara," the Doctor said, lowering her more carefully back to the bed, pulling her legs across his lap. "Could you have truly doubted it?"

"Well, you used to be afraid to even show me your room on the TARDIS, darling, so you can't blame me for thinking that a baby might be a little too much for you to handle without getting…"

"Scared?" The Doctor asked. "Clara, I'm terrified. But that only shows that I'm clever, you know. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid of parenthood. But oh, Clara, this baby. They are going to look just like you and have all your kindness and none of my bad qualities. And can you imagine the brain on this baby? Combining our brains? Look out, worlds!"

"You're right," Clara remarked, smiling widely. She touched her belly and kissed the Doctor, "Look out, worlds!" Her eyes flitted back over to the omelet and juice. "Now, what about that breakfast?"

*Sequel forthcoming!*