Donna stormed into the console room. "Doctor, I'm going to kill you!" Reaching him, she slapped him.

The Doctor was stunned. "What was that for? What have I done now?"

"It's all your fault!"

"What is?" he asked, completely nonplussed.

"What do you think? I'm pregnant, you dumbo!"

"Ah."

"Well, don't just stand there, you prawn! Get me to a clinic, now!" she yelled, hands on hips.

"What for?" he asked, confused.

Donna was getting angrier by the second. "What do you think, spaceman? I'm not having some alien baby! Haven't you seen Alien?"

The Doctor, on the other hand, was getting more confused. "Of course I have! Donna, what makes you think I'm the dad?"

Donna couldn't believe what she was hearing. Stupid question from a stupid Martian. "Well, we did go to that mating planet. Not that long ago. Or don't you remember? We had to mate."

The Doctor shuddered at the memory. "Vividly. Do you actually know anything about the development of this kind of pregnancy?" he asked, curious.

Donna sighed with impatience. "No. Why would I? I wasn't planning on getting knocked up, was I? You: long streak of nothing - alien nothing, remember?"

The Doctor looked more worried than confused now. "Donna, this kind of pregnancy develops way faster than the human kind. Humans take nine months, this takes nine days. One month every day."

"Oh my god. I'm three months already? What am I gonna do when I have this thing?"

Now the Doctor was impatient. "Donna, stop it. It's a she, not an thing. I've been a dad before, I'll help you."

It was Donna's turn to be stunned. "How did you find that out?"

The Doctor tapped his forehead. "With this." he replied.

There was a pause.

"Look, Donna, if you really don't want to have this baby, you could always… I dunno…transfer it to me?"

"Doctor, don't take this the wrong way, but how?"

"Time Lord, remember? We were born hermaphrodites, to carry on the legacy of the Time Lords. I might not show it, but I have all your…female parts. Well, minus the chest. So what do you say? Swap?"

Donna grinned. "Definitely. D'you need me to do anything?"

"Just hold still. This won't hurt."

Donna opened her eyes a moment later and looked down, then rolled her eyes. " 'This won't hurt.' What do you think you're doing, spaceman?"

"Well, it worked, didn't it? Look," he said, gesturing to his stomach.

Donna gaped. "Oh my god. You're pregnant!" she cried, pointing at his stomach.

The Doctor looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, thanks, Donna."

Donna continued to gape. "You're pregnant!"

"I noticed," the Doctor replied wearily.

"I don't believe it! How d'you feel?"

The Doctor considered this for a moment. "Well, all things considered, pretty good, actually," he said matter-of-factly, putting a hand to his stomach.

"You're not very well prepared, are you? Don't you know what a baby needs?"

The Doctor looked as though he'd only just remembered he was pregnant. "Er, yeah, about that…" he started, trailing off at the thought.

"Well, come on, then! We're going to get everything you need."

"I can't fly the Tardis like this! And I do have stuff, you know!" he said indignantly. Anything to avoid going out looking like this.

Donna looked surprised. "Why?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "In case you and Rose decided to reproduce one day? Where is it?"

The Doctor had to think for a split-second. "Down the hall, third left. Store cupboard. It's all there." He gave a grunt.

Donna, about to go for the stuff, noticed this. "Doctor, what's wrong?" Then she looked.

"You mean…?" she asked, looking at his stomach and the puddle on the floor.

The Doctor nodded. "I've gone into labour. I can't stop it. Help me, Donna."

Donna looked confused. "What do I do?" she asked.

The Doctor could hardly get his words out. Could this get any worse? "Towels, blankets, cushions. And maybe water."

Donna looked even more confused now. "Water?"

Between pants and groans, the Doctor, growing impatient, said, "Hurry up! It's getting worse!"

---

Ten minutes later, Donna was trying to mop his brow and stroke his hair, as well as provide words of encouragement to him. "You're getting there, Doctor. Head's nearly out!" This is, I hope, the last time I'm ever gonna have to say this to him.

The Doctor, panting, sweating and groaning with the effort of pushing, managed to grit out, "I'm trying!"

And still Donna talked to him. "Keep going! The head's just out! Come on, push!"

The Doctor felt the pain getting worse, like someone was squeezing his stomach as hard as they could. It was unrelenting.

Donna hoisted him up with her full weight. "Come on, then," she said, helping him to a bathroom.

---

"Better?" He nodded. "Good. Now push. She's coming."

The Doctor was exhausted, nevertheless, he kept on going…one, two, three…

And suddenly it was over. From far away he heard Donna say, "And…relax. You have a daughter. She's lovely." A baby began to cry. That's my daughter. My…daughter.

Chest heaving, the Doctor panted out, "Can - can I hold her?" A new human being. Well, part human, anyway.

Smiling softly, Donna replied, "Only once you get out of that bath." She chuckled quietly.

Feeling foolish, the Doctor climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist. Donna placed his daughter in his arms carefully.

The Doctor whispered, "She's perfect," while cradling her.

Tentatively, Donna asked, "Can I name her?"

The Doctor considered this for a minute. "Yeah, okay."

Donna thought quickly, then said, "Sylvia, for my mum, and Rose for…Rose."

Sleepily, the Doctor replied, "Thanks, Donna," before falling asleep with Sylvia Rose in his arms.