A/N: Hey, remember me? I used to write Timebaby Drabbles?

Sorry, it's been so long guys; most of my time has been spent adjusting to college life and the college workload. To apologize, here's some sweet Rory/Doctor moments. Enjoy!

The Doctor's hands weaved fluidly over the black and white board, claiming all the dark chess pieces in its wake. "Checkmate. Again," he coldly droned out. The gangly alien chewed on his knuckles, bright hazel eyes darting across the table in front of him; but the chess game was the last thing running through his mind.

Rory's mouth was slightly agape, shocked at the Doctor's eighth win of the hour. The Doctor gnawed at his lip, and fiddled with his fingers, flinching when a feline-faced nun swung open the doors of the TARDIS med bay. The sister offered no words of assurance, just a simple and genuine smile as she grabbed a nearby pitcher of ice chips. She slid back into the med bay as quickly as she emerged.

The Doctor shot up from his chair in the console room, and began to swoop back and forth, like tweed-clad pendulum.

"Why won't anyone tell me anything?! I'm 1200 years old, for God's sake. 1200 years old, and about to be a father!" The Doctor's rant was interrupted by a loud pained scream of one River Song, and a loud Scottish voice soothing her. "That's it, I'm going in." He straightened his bowtie and made his way to the double doors. Rory was quick to dive in front of him, splaying both arms outward.

"In defense of my daughter, and probably some very delicate extraterrestrial midwifing equipment, I suggest you don't do that. River said no, and that she would call if she needs you. Now, sit down and play some chess, Doctor." The expectant father huffed, and indignantly lowered himself onto the seat. River's angry, exhausted, and drawn out "Damn it!" echoed in from the med bay. The Doctor's mouth drooped into an alert frown.

"She'll be ok? Right, Roranicus?" His voice took on the tightened pitch of a child with monsters in his closet.

"Women have healthy babies every day. And I've delivered a lot of them. And it's River. She'll be fine." Rory placed a firm hand on his son-in-law's shoulder.

"Women that aren't my wife have lots of healthy babies that aren't my daughter," the Time Lord hissed.

Rory retreated his hand, and threw the Doctor a mild glare. "Do you not think I know what it's like to worry about a wife in labor?" The Doctor's face softened, and he smiled warmly.

"You're right, Roman. And look what I found in Morocco!" He giggled, reached into his breast pocket, and pulled out a tiny red fez, no bigger than a teacup. Rory smiled; The Doctor stuffed the hat back into his pocket when he was quietly interrupted by one of the nurses.

A gentle, earnest voice broke the tense air in the console room. "She's fully dilated, gentlemen. This baby will be here very soon now." A whoosh and a bang of the two doors marked the Sister's exit.

The Doctor began to pace furiously, babbling incoherently to himself before running out of the room completely. Ten minutes later, he returned with no less than twenty books cradled between his long limbs, dusty and ancient to freshly pressed. As his arms gave way, the heavy books rained to the floor with a booming thud. Rory began to scan them all.

"'Gallifreyan Colors and Numbers'? 'Methods for the 40th Century Parents'? Planning on some light reading, Doctor?"

"No harm in a little natal research. Here, feel free to read up." The Doctor cracked open the first in the pile and began to peruse until his eyes bulged.

Hours passed, and The Doctor was still fully immersed in his studies, even though River's pained screams and Amy's repetitive calls of "Push!" made concentration a little difficult. Rory had fashioned a semi-comfortable bed from a couch, and somehow managed a peaceful slumber.

The Doctor was halfway through a chapter on Sontaran Mammary Adaptation, when the Universe simply stopped.

Every galaxy froze to allow for the reedy and unmistakable wail of a new life.

Amy's footsteps pounded as she burst through the med-bay doors, eyes beginning to spill over with joyous tears. The Doctor stood, rising on his toes with nervousness.

"Oh, Doctor," the redhead's voice broke, "she's beautiful."

The Doctor threw two fists in the air, and leapt into the med bay. "I'm a Dad!" rang through the entire ship.

Amy nuzzled into her husband's chest. "Hey, Gran," she whispered, and Rory pressed a loving kiss to her temple. She jolted up, noticing the large heap of books on the floor.

Rory nodded. "Studying. Thought it could prepare him for this."

At that, Amy couldn't help but to let out a cackle.