This story also involves Jack Harkness, Torchwood, Martha Jones and other characters
The market was busier than usual; the royal party were in residence.
No-one commented on the heavily pregnant man that made his way through the crowds, no-one would dare.
The man stopped at one of the stalls and perused the material on display.
"Is there something that catches your eye, my Lord?" the stall holder asked.
The man fingered a bolt of blue silk. "How much for the whole bolt?"
"A thousand credits, my Lord."
The man looked at him. "A thousands credits, that's a bit steep."
"It is Irridian Spider silk, the finest grade."
"From the Mountain Spider?"
"Yes, my Lord, a female in her first season."
"Okay and I'll take that bolt of purple shimmer weave and I'll give a thousand for the two," and handed over a credit wafer.
"Yes, my Lord."
"Have them delivered to the palace by this evening," the man said and took the credit wafer back.
With that he walked away.
The Doctor sighed as he sat on the wall, he was exhausted but it was worth it; the nursery would look glorious with the silk and the shimmer weave draped across the cradles.
They were the colours of the higher families on Gallifrey and it seemed only right that the first generation of a new Time Lord society should have these colours as theirs.
The heat was unbearable, made worse by the fact that he was three weeks overdue.
"You two are too much like me," he said to the bump. "Never on time, and would it kill you not to use my bladder as a pillow."
He smiled when he felt the babies respond to his complaint. "Oh, very funny. We'll see how funny it is when the midwife turns you again."
With a groan he stood up. "If he thinks I'm having twins or any more babies."
He looked at his watch, time to get back; his back spasmend.
"You are so evicted if you don't come out soon."
He should really take the shuttle back to the palace but perhaps the walk would help his back; he had time.
The summer palace was impressive, walls made of stone that blazed pure white in the sun.
But the passenger in the shuttle that flew over it wasn't impressed; he had after all remodelled and decorated it.
He would have razed it to the ground and built another but he said he liked it and asked him not to...and he couldn't refuse him anything.
The Master looked at his own watch.
The Doctor should be back from the market.
He'd been increasingly restless as the babies due date had passed and he'd practically climbed the walls. He was nesting the midwife had said and it would be wise to let him follow his instincts.
He was loathe to let him out alone but he had to attend to matters in the north and the Doctor had refused an escort and it would have been pointless sending his spies to watch him.
"It's only the market and I want to find the right material for the nursery. I'll be fine."
"Stay out of the sun and don't eat any of that rubbish from the street vendors."
Now as the shuttle approached the palace he had a feeling that something wasn't right. He pressed the com unit on his chair and dialled the Doctor's number.
The sound of static filled his ears; something was definitely wrong.
"Turn this shuttle round. Head for the market...now!"
I really should have taken the shuttle he thought as another wave of pain shot through him.
He'd been fine for the first mile and had decided to walk alongside the river, enjoying the cooling breeze coming of the water.
His back however hadn't eased up and the pain had radiated to his stomach, so much so that he'd had to sit down and that had been a mistake.
Pain shot through his midriff, followed by excruciating pain in his lower abdomen and then he felt something tear inside and he couldn't stop the cry of agony that escaped his lips.
No...the babies were coming, but something was very wrong.
He couldn't stay here, there was no-one around. He managed to pull out his com and dial the Master's private number, but all he got was static.
With a cry of frustration he threw the device and forced himself to his feet.
He could feel something warm and sticky and he fearfully placed a hand on the damp patch and brought it back up.
Nausea rose when he saw it was coated with blood and amniotic fluid.
"No please..." he whimpered as his vision began to blur and the distress coming from his babies overwhelmed him and he began losing the fight for consciousness.
He never heard the sound of a shuttle landing, nor did he see or feel the figure that knelt beside him or lift him up.
Nor did he hear the bellowed words.
"Move this thing and call the surgeon!"
The Master scanned the ground beneath the shuttle, panic rising at the lack of any sign of the Doctor. He hadn't been at the market and hadn't taken the shuttle.
The stupid idiot must have decided to walk and now he should have been on the road...wait, he liked the river.
He was right and he could see from the air that there was something very wrong.
He was now walking quickly alongside the gurney, snapping and snarling at the surgeon's staff that if either he or the babies died so would they.
"Please, my lord, you need to wait outside!" the midwife said.
That was an hour ago and there were no sounds coming from the theatre.
He was about to go in and demand to know what was going on, when the surgeon came out.
"Well?" the Master snarled.
"The Lord Doctor has suffered a placental rupture and the birthing slit has torn and he has lost a of blood," the surgeon said
"And the babies?"
"They are in distress, we are going to induce labour."
"Can't you do a c-section?"
"No, my Lord, he is too unstable to risk any anaesthesia, but there is still risk involved."
"What risk?"
"A risk that neither of them will survive."
