Part One

"Look at 'em, Rose!" The Doctor could barely contain himself, "He's beautiful, absolutely beautiful!" He grinned down at his week old son who was smiling right back.

Rose smiled from her place by the stove, "He takes after his father." She bites her lip to contain the laughter threatening to escape her throat. He scooped up his son, carrying him into the kitchen, taking sweeping steps like he was dancing until he stood in front of his wife.

His eyes met Rose's, joy shining behind them "He takes after you . . . and a little bit after me." He winks then, turning his focus back to their baby in his arms.

"We still haven't named him, you know." Rose crossed her arms.

The Doctor looked up then, his eyebrow lifting, "What good does a name do you?"

"It's something to distinguish him by, Doctor." Rose rolls her eyes. "Mysterious titles are sort of useless on Earth, unless you're in a movie of course. And we can't just call him The junior Doctor, now can we."

He didn't argue with that, instead he only shrugged, "Well, then he needs a name . . ." He paused and looked to Rose. "Got any ideas?"

"What do you think of Brandon?" She asks, running two fingers lovingly over the side of the boy's face.

The Doctor nods, "Brandon it is! It's as good a name as any." He grins, "Our Brandon."

Hiking my back pack higher onto my shoulder, a chill ran down my spine. All day I had felt something watching me, and as I walked down the street toward the bus station it was still there. I glance behind myself, and as usual- no one is there. I cursed myself for being so paranoid, even if this wasn't the first time… my parents were odd, but not in a bad way. They were the kind of rare people that amuse you, they're different from everyone else and you just get drawn in because they make you believe that maybe normal is overrated. I knew I was different, thanks to my father.