"Now, blow out your candles, my love," River hummed.
Clara grinned widely at the small chocolate cake that sat in front of her with four little blue candles lit on top. She was sure it had something to do with her father sonicing all the candles before he lit them, but each flame hosted a different color, casting a rainbow light throughout the kitchen.
The girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she exerted all her focus on blowing out the candles and wishing. River and the Doctor clapped as Clara then grabbed each candle and licked the frosting off the blunt ends.
"I know it's your birthday, sweetie, but it is breakfast time, so only one slice for now," River said as she rose from her seat and started cutting up the cake.
Clara pouted slightly from her chair. She'd wanted to sit in River's lap, but her unborn sister got first claim to that. "But it's my breakfast cake."
"A big slice, then," River compromised, scooping up a generously sized piece on cake onto a plate for her daughter. Clara voiced no further complaints when she saw the size of the slice she received and quickly grabbed a fork to dig in with.
River settled back down in her seat after dishing out some cake for the Doctor and herself. The Doctor glanced at his wife's plate, then at her face. River glared at him for a moment, daring him to comment on the amount of cake she'd taken; I'm eating for two, what's your excuse?
"Mummy?"
River looked back to her daughter. "Yes?"
"Does my sister get a cake when she comes out?"
"Babies doesn't usually get cakes when they're born. She'll be too little to eat it anyways. Babies can only have special milk that their mummies make."
Clara looked confused. 'Special milk' was the name Clara gave to the sweet drink her parents made her, that was really just warm milk mixed with vanilla, maple syrup, and cinnamon. "Can daddy make it? He makes special milk better cos' he puts in more syrup."
River laughed, realizing her mistake of words. "Not that kind of special milk. It's milk that my body makes here." She pointed at her chest. "And it's just for the baby."
Clara looked at her father whose chest was considerably flatter than River's. "So daddy can't make it, too?"
"No, only the person growing the baby can make the milk."
Clara twisted a little more in her seat to get a better look at her father. She looked at his chest and looked at his stomach just in case there was a mix-up, then looked back at her mother and decided it was most definitely River who was growing the baby at the moment. "Can daddy grow a baby?"
River laughed again. "Remember that picture we showed you of where babies grow?"
"Um…" she thought back to a few months ago when her parents had pulled down an anatomy book from the shelves and found her some diagrams of human gestation. "Yeah. In the, um, the organ and it stretches when the baby grows and squeezes when the baby has to come out."
"Yes, very good my love. We call that organ a uterus, and daddy doesn't have one."
"Oh. Why not?"
River glanced at the Doctor wondering how many anatomy questions they could handle this morning. "Well, people are all built differently. Some people have uteruses and some people don't."
"So when I was a baby, you grew me and daddy didn't?"
"That's right," the Doctor nodded.
Clara looked accusingly at her father. "So mummy did all the work both times?"
"Um, well... " He glanced at his wife who was looking more pleased by the second. "Yes, you could say that."
"That's not fair. You said when my sister comes we all had to help an even amount and it would be more even if Mummy grew me and you grew my baby sister."
"Yes, that's true but—"
"But it's not something that can be helped," River finally came to the rescue, changing the topic before the question of regeneration could come up. "Now why don't you finish your cake and we can decide what we're going to do today, hm?"
"Daddy said we were going to unpack boxes," Clara muttered.
Nearly every room in the house was full of unpacked boxes. They'd only moved in a few weeks ago and while they'd brought all the boxes out from the TARDIS, they had hardly started to unpack unless someone said, "Honey have you seen the tea kettle?" It was too time-consuming, according to the adults. They hated to waste their precious seconds doing anything that wasn't spending time together. The Doctor was even considering getting Nardole a real body so he could do it for them.
"He was just teasing, my little star," River assured. "We can go on an adventure— wherever you like."
"Wherever I like?" Clara's excitement quickly returned to her face.
"Anywhere in the universe," River promised. "After breakfast."
Clara started scarfing down her cake, eager to go traveling. River made her daughter eat some fruit with the cake in a burst of maternal obligation. The only Darrillian fruit that Clara had taken a liking to were called aapells. They were segmented like citrus, had the texture of a dry pear, and a peel as thick as a banana's. The Doctor hated even the look of them and even River never liked them outside of pregnancy cravings. How Clara decided the fruit tasted anything but terrible was a mystery to her parents, but nonetheless, the girl bounced into the TARDIS with aapell juice running down her chin and cake crumbs on her cheeks.
The three Songs were hardly a few steps into the doors of their ship when they all stopped and stared at the console. Clara's tiny face split into a grin much bigger than her cheeks could logically allow as her parents simply gawked.
Circumferencing below the control panels was a tiny, metallic platform rising out of the floor. It just so happened to be the perfect height if someone were to be three and a quarter feet tall and needed a stool to have a good look at the controls.
Clara bolted towards the controls, clambering up onto the new platform. On any other day she'd need River or the Doctor to lift her up, but now she skipped around the entire circumference utterly dazzled by all the buttons and knobs on the console. When she circled back around to her parents her face was even brighter than when she'd been presented with a cake. "Does this mean I'm old enough to fly Mummy TARDIS?"
"N—" The Doctor started to say but was cut off by his wife's hand on his shoulder.
"Sweetie, it's just the Old Girl's way of saying happy birthday. You know she'd never let Clara fly anywhere she wasn't supposed to go," River reminded her husband gently as the TARDIS echoed a confirming humm.
The Doctor allowed himself a hesitant breath before taking in the expression of unchecked excitement in his daughter's beaming face and releasing it into a smile. "I think this means it's time to start giving you lessons."
"I want to fly her!" Clara declared, half asking half telling.
"Let's start with what does what, hm?" The Doctor moved over to the controls, beaconing his daughter over to the motor panel and pointing to a grey lever. "That starts the engines."
The lever may as well have had 'pull me' written on it because Clara did exactly that. The TARDIS lurched violently, tossing the Doctor to the floor. River rushed over to put a hand on the atom accelerator before anything else could happen. The room stopped shaking as soon as she did.
The Doctor was on his feet as quickly as possible, looking hurriedly over his wife and daughter to see if they were hurt. Clara beamed back at him, clearly proud of herself for pulling the start lever and River offered a weak smile.
The Doctor breathed a silent sigh of relief then said with the gentleness that reminded River he'd been a father before. "I know you're excited, my little star, but maybe wait for me to finish explaining before you have a go at it, alright?"
Clara nodded innocently, though as soon as the Doctor started explaining again she was pressing more buttons. She tried to do it more discreetly than before and, to her credit, didn't seem to be attracting the attention of her father. He was busy with big words like 'temporal steering' and 'zigzag plotter.' A four-year-old couldn't be bothered with words like those, even if said four-year-old was mostly Gallifreyan.
What Clara didn't notice was River, who was watching every move her daughter made and in turn was making discrete commands of her own into the controls to keep the TARDIS silent and in control. River was sure Clara didn't really know what she was doing but found herself curious to where they might end up if she didn't intervene (and trusted the TARDIS enough that they wouldn't end up somewhere they shouldn't).
Ten year jump—time lock—nearest registered planet.
River moved the zigzag plotter back after Clara toggled with it and pressed the stabilizers.
Homing button—waste tank evacuation—multiply space-time coordinates by seven.
Clara giggled and looked as innocent as she could when her father glanced back at her before getting back to mischief.
10^100.885km left—200 years back—River found herself surprised when Clara actually pressed the correct button next and the TARDIS made a soft thud, indicating a landing.
Clara looked between her parents with satisfaction, reveling in the confused expression on the Doctor's face. It was when she looked at River that she realized her mother had known what she was doing the whole time. She was about to start apologizing when River winked at her and Clara smiled instead.
"Have we… landed?" The Doctor looked at his wife, clearly puzzled.
"It would seem you're either a very good teacher or a very bad one," River mused. She took Clara's hand and walked to the door with her. The Doctor quickly followed, starting to feel like he was on the outside of a joke—not an uncommon feeling when it came to his wife and daughter. The TARDIS crowed at him, just to make sure he knew she was inside the joke as well.
He huffed at the three of them but didn't have time to get pouty about it because the moment the doors opened they were met with a wall of water.
—x—
Clara bounced back into the console room wearing a set of dry clothes.
"This," said a sopping wet Doctor as he pointed to a squarish red button on the console, "is the environmental controls. It keeps the air in the TARDIS if we open the doors in space and the water out if we open the doors underwater."
His daughter nodded distractedly as she followed two very confused crabs around the room.
River entered the room at that moment, a towel sitting on her shoulders. "Alright?" The Doctor asked her.
"Bruised," River sighed. The unexpected flood had slammed her into the console. She was able to quickly reactivate the environmental controls that Clara had mistakenly turned off, but the battery had thrown the Doctor into a panic. He promptly sent her to the medbay when the water had drained. "But Baby's fine."
"Are you sure?" he fretted, plucking one of the crabs out of Clara's hands.
"I know how to run a scan, sweetie."
"Why do you need a scan?" Clara asked.
"Just checking on your sister," River scooped her daughter up into her arms and rested her on her hip. Clara had the other crab in hand and presented it to River. "Is this your new friend?"
"His name is Spotty," Clara enthused. The flailing crab had a dark speckled pattern on its shell, so the name choice wasn't surprising.
"Well, why don't we get Spotty and his friend back in their homes, hmm?" River adjusted the girl in her grasp. With her newly freed hand, she piloted the TARDIS smoothly to the water's surface. She moved with Clara to the doors once again, taking the other panicking crab from the Doctor first.
The Doctor peered over his wife's shoulder, taking in the environment outside the doors. The TARDIS was sitting on the surface of what appeared to be a massive lake—how River had done that, he had no idea. Trees lined the edges of the encompassing land and hills rose up behind them. "A saltwater lake," he breathed.
"Say bye-bye to Spotty," River instructed Clara, and tossed the nameless crab into the water.
"Bye-bye, Spotty," Clara repeated, copying her mother's actions and tossing Spotty into the water with the other crab. Both animals sunk a few feet then extended what seemed like fins and started swimming away.
"Now, let's find out where were are, shall we sweetpea?"
"Planet LCX:8923."
River turned at her husband's response, eyebrow raised. He was at the controls again, having pulled the monitor around.
"Later known as Lehsiorr III," he added. "In about 384 years. Breathable air, life-hosting, and small. 15-hour day cycle. And—"
River stopped him with a noise of slight irritation and turned back to the doors. "Daddy thinks he's smart when he does that. Why don't we have a go at the old fashioned way?"
Clara's eyes lit up—she'd been practicing this one. With a newly dawned ere of importance, she licked her index finger, held it out of the doors to the light breeze, then licked it again. "18% oxygen, er, 75% nitrogen, and, um, bits of xenon, helium, and… io… iod…"
"Iodine," River supplied, beaming.
"All that but she parked the TARDIS twenty feet underwater," the Doctor said under his breath.
River heard him and glared. "Piloting is a learned skill, sweetie, and she's doing brilliantly so far." She emphasized the point with a kiss to Clara's cheek to which the girl giggled. "Now get some dry clothes on, will you? We have an adventure to go on."
"Adventure!" Clara echoed.
When the Doctor came back downstairs in fresh clothes, River had already moved the TARDIS onto the shore. He met his family outside where River was closely watching their daughter fuss about by the edge of the water.
Clara was crouched by the edge of the water. She had found a cluster of those crab-like animals. The crabs were snapping their claws but only, it seemed, to communicate—not to harm the girl. Clara wasn't put off by this at all and was trying to make clicking noises back at them. If he closed his eyes, it sounded like rain.
"She's making friends already," he murmured.
River said nothing but hummed in response. The Doctor looked her over, following the line of her arm down to her hand that rested on her belly.
"Baby okay?"
"You already asked me that," River sighed, though he could hear the hints of affection in her tone. "You're such a worry wart, honestly."
"Me? Worrying? Never," he chuckled.
She could see his laugh failing to reach his eyes and smiled softly. She reached for his hand, leading it to where hers had been resting. "I was just feeling her move, my love."
With a simple touch, his nerves settled. She watched his worry creases smooth away in favor of the boyish grin of his bow-tie wearing face. It spread across the aged skin he wore now like a blooming flower and she thought she might exchange the health of all the peonies in the back garden for that smile.
A sudden spasm beneath the Doctor's hand caused excitement to ripple across his expression. "Was that a kick?"
"No, I do believe that was a hiccup."
Not a moment later, the small jolt came again and this time he nearly giggled—River was sure he'd never admit to making such a noise.
Clara stumbled over to her parents when she realized their attention was getting occupied by something that wasn't the crabs or her. "What are you doing?"
"Feeling your sister hiccup," River told her softly.
"Babies can hiccup in there?" Clara pointed a stubby finger at River's middle.
"Yes. She does it quite often, actually."
She put her tiny hand next to the Doctor's in time to feel another hiccup. River amended that the whole garden could toss it for the way her daughter's eyes light up so brightly.
"Does it hurt, Mummy?"
"Not at all," she assured. "Though it does make me have to pee. She's right on my bladder."
"So much for getting on our adventure," the Doctor teased.
"Carry a baby first, then you get to have an opinion about bathroom breaks." River huffed. "I've done it twice now and there you are, Mr. Helpful: skinny as a twig and still missing the right bits to be of any use. The nerve, honestly."
"How rude of me," the Doctor smiled widely. "I ought to be more chivalrous."
"Yes, you ought to be," River called behind her as she went back inside to find a bathroom.
By the time they were finally off with a picnic basket and what River referred to as the "Mum Bag"—a bigger-on-the-inside contraption that had any item Clara might need on a whim, from first aid kits to an emergency swimsuit—it was half eleven.
They let Clara choose the direction and set off that way. She'd picked to go towards the hills which were starting to seem more like mountains the closer they got. River wasn't against a nice walk, but walking up a mountain with an extra however-many-pounds of baby attached to your front was where River drew the line. They, therefore, stopped at the bottom of the mountain for their picnic.
Clara chose a big, sun-warmed rock to put the picnic blanket on and her parents easily set everything up. Soon she was happily eating a mince pie and looking over the landscape.
"I think we should build a treehouse," the Doctor said around a bite of his food.
"We'd need a tree for that, sweetie," River hummed.
"We can get a tree. Would could get a few trees."
"Do we have room for that?"
"Sure we do."
"Daddy, what's a treehouse?" Clara asked.
The Doctor smiled and launched into a detailed, slightly buffed up description of a treehouse. He added details like tire swings to which River raised a brow but didn't comment.
"Can we have a treehouse, mummy?"
River didn't answer, eyes locked on something in the woods. Clara followed her line of sight to see that River was staring at a rope. It was hanging from a high, sturdy branch and had a few large knots along its length.
"What's that?" Clara asked. "Is it a tire swing?"
"No, it's a rope," River murmured.
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. Someone must have put in there."
"Who?"
River glanced at the Doctor who looked intrigued. "Shall we find out?" The Doctor asked.
Clara didn't wait for River to say yes, jumping to her feet and running over to the tree with the rope. Her parents followed close behind, leaving the picnic abandoned for the time being.
Upon closer inspection, the rope seemed very well build. It was thick but smooth. The knots were at equal intervals every three feet starting at the bottom and continuing to where the rope hung on its branch.
"It could be a swing," the Doctor theorized.
Clara's eyes lit up. "Can I swing on it?"
"Wait a moment, dear," River frowned. "We don't know how sturdy it is."
To prove her point, River pulled on the rope. The branch didn't bend. She pulled a little harder and still the rope seemed stable. Pulling her weight up, she stood on the lowest knot with her whole body and still the rope held its own.
"Alright," she sighed. "If you think you can hang on very tightly, you can swing on it."
Clara beamed and clambered up onto the rope, using the lowest knot as a seat. The Doctor started pushing her so she swung. The little girl giggled and squealed.
River smiled at her daughter, but she couldn't help but be suspicious of the rope swing. It was obviously put here on purpose by who ever lived on this planet, but there hadn't been any other signs of intelligent life on the way here. It was possible they were just in the wrong place to see any native peoples, but then why would this rope be here so far away from any other structure?
A quick shared look with her husband showed that he was thinking the same thing.
Perhaps it was the double suns or the joy bubbling from their daughter, but it took them longer than normal to realize that there were things in the trees catching the light. Small pieces of shining metal hung on thin strings in a path above them, crossing where the rope swing was fastened.
River realized that as Clara swung, the unusual decorations quivered with vibrations and caught more and more light. After a minute or two, the pieces of metal started to absorb the light instead of reflecting them. Even in the light of day, it created a clear path of lights through the forest.
Clara got off the rope swing and stood to stare up at the lights with wide eyes. "Can we follow the fairies?"
"I don't think they're fairies, lovie," the Doctor murmured and glanced at River.
"But can we follow them?" Clara asked again with more insistence. "Pretty please?"
River hesitated but was having trouble resisting the wonder-filled eyes of her daughter. "Well… alright. But you have to hold Mummy or Daddy's hand the whole time, alright?"
Clara beamed and took both her parent's hands, pulling them along to follow the path of strange lights.
The path led further away from where the TARDIS was parked and River briefly wondered if leaving their picnic unsupervised was a bad idea, but there was nothing there that wasn't replaceable. She was more concerned with the long walk back than anything, knowing her ankles would ache for hours after.
Their path eventually lead to a body of water about the size of a football field. The water was perfectly still and reflected the strange lights of the path near perfectly. River peered cautiously over the edge at her reflection. Regardless of the water being still, she couldn't see anything; no bottom, no fish, just reflection.
She wondered how deep it was as Clara knelt down on the bank. The girl reached her hand down and touched the surface, grinning at how her reflection rippled. "Is this the end of the path?"
Her parents looked around and saw no sign of continuing lights. "Yes, I believe so," River nodded.
"Why here?" The Doctor was still scanning the area. "It's a lake."
"A very still lake," River murmured.
"Well, there's no wind."
"Exactly."
The Doctor bit his lip and listened. There was were no sounds of crickets or birds in the surrounding forest—or whatever creatures made up the background noises of this planet. The air almost rang with the silence.
"Mummy look!" Clara shouted so suddenly that her parents jumped. "I'm waving at myself!"
Clara was waving at her reflection, though as her parents looked closer they saw that her reflection was waving back of its own accord.
The Doctor quickly picked up his daughter and lifted her away from the water. Clara and her reflection pouted.
River reached for her gun. "When am I allowed to say I told you so?"
The water started to ungulate and the Doctor backed up slowly. "Maybe not right at this moment, dear…"
The water bobbed and pulsated as part of it started to rise into one gravity-defying mass. The water shifted and shaped for a long minute before finally settling into a form that was a near perfect copy of their daughter.
Clara went wide-eyed as she saw her double. "Look, it made me!"
Speechless, the Doctor used his free hand to scan the water with the sonic. "It's not sentient..."
The duplicate Clara lifted its arms up in the motion that Clara always did when she wanted to be lifted.
"Are you sure about that, sweetie?" River said. None of them dared to go near the waterform.
"Is that my new sister?" Clara asked, not nearly as worried as her parents.
"No, your sister is in here," River rested a hand on her middle. "And she'll be a lot smaller when she comes out… and not made of water for starters."
Water Clara pouted as she realized no one was going to lift her up and turned to face the lake. As she did, the water started shifting again and two more, much taller masses of water started to form.
Soon, River and the Doctor were staring at themselves.
The other Doctor picked up the other Clara and rested her on his hip, identical to how the real Doctor was holding his daughter. The other River rested a hand on her middle as the real River was doing.
"Hi." Clara waved at herself.
The water waved back, her movements a perfect mirror, though a bit delayed. Other Clara smiled at real Clara and the later looked at her father. "Can we be friends?"
"Um," the real Doctor hesitated, still unsure if what they were seeing was a threat or not.
As he looked for an answer, his water double took a step forward and extended a hand.
"Look, Daddy! He wants to be friends too!"
The Doctor handed Clara to River and the water did the exact same before extending a hand again. The Doctor took a slow breath and met the water's hand. He wasn't sure what else to do but shake it.
The water smiled at him and seemed to shine a little brighter.
"Sweetie…" River warned, unsure about this.
Her Doctor turned back to look at her a little more relaxed. "It's a reflecting pool."
"A reflecting pool?" she echoed.
"Yes. People come here when they want answers about themselves and they're shown, well, themselves."
"I don't see what good that does," River muttered, stepping closer to her husband. The other River did the same.
"Well... look at them. What do you see?"
She sighed and examined their water copies. "Us. We're all… smiling. Happy."
The Doctor beamed at her. "It's showing us what we want to see."
"But aren't we already hap—"
"I want to see a puppy!" Clara interrupted loudly.
The water rippled and rose again until a Newfoundland puppy was sitting obediently next to the water family.
Clara squealed with excitement and wiggled out of her mother's arms. Her water self did the same and both went to pet the dog.
"River? You didn't have a dog in the past, did you?" the Doctor asked.
"No. Why?"
"Because the water can only show us ourselves. So if that's not from our pasts… it's from our future."
River blinked. "We're going to get a dog?"
"Quite possibly, yes."
River took a breath. She was still rolling over the new information that this water could see the future to some extent. She and foreknowledge had an odd relationship, but that didn't stop her curiosities.
As if reading her mind, the other River started to wobble shift form. River and the Doctor watched with fascination as the water that had formed River's baby bump shrunk and reformed in River's arms as an infant of only a few months old.
"Doctor…" River's voice caught in her throat.
The baby looked healthy and content, grabbing for the curls of its mother. The duplicate River extended her arms, showing the baby to the gaping parents.
"It's her," River breathed. "She's… beautiful."
Clara came over to her parents, curious as to why they'd gone so silent. "What's she holding?"
The Doctor lifted Clara up once again and the other Doctor did the same. "That's your baby sister. Well, it will be. That's what she'll look like."
"Woah!" Clara gaped. "She's so tiny!"
"Yes, babies are small to begin," the Doctor hummed.
"Can we take her home?"
"No," he chuckled. "I'm afraid this is only a sneak peek. We have to wait for her to be born."
"How long?"
"In a few months."
Clara thought about pouting but was distracted as all the water figures started shifting and melting back into the lake. "Oh… bye-bye!"
"Bye-bye," the Doctor echoed softly. He looked at his wife who was still staring at where her duplicate had stood, frozen to the spot. "River?"
She looked at him, barely moving.
"Are you alright?"
"She was healthy," River swallowed. "She was okay."
The Doctor put a had on her arm, his voice gentle. "Of course she was okay. She'll be perfect."
River glanced at the ground and sniffed. "I thought… I had this feeling that last time was a miracle. That last time was the only time we'd do it right and if we tried again it would just... go wrong because my body's not built—"
The Doctor pulled her into a hug and she pressed her face into his shoulder. "This isn't biology, River. This is family."
"I'm pretty sure you stole that line from a movie," River gave a watery chuckle. "Because that doesn't really make sense."
He smiled. "Alright, I did. But my point stands. You don't have to worry. I know you will, but our babies are healthy and happy and they'll stay that way. We'll make sure of that."
River nodded and let out a tired sigh. She turned her head to look at Clara who was in the Doctor's other arm. "You're going to be a wonderful big sister, my star."
"Okay!" Clara smiled, not really understanding where River's sentimentality was coming from, but accepting the praise.
River straightened up and took her daughter into her own arms, giving her a long hug. "I love you so much, sweetpea."
"I know, Mummy," Clara hugged back, "You tell me every night."
"And I'll never ever stop. That's a promise."
Her daughter nodded and rested her head on River's shoulder. "I'm done now. Can we watch a movie?"
"Of course," River agreed. The three of them started back through the woods.