Chapter One: Once is all it takes

It is during the earliest hours of the morning as Clara sits on the edge of her bed, dying. Well, at least that's what it feels like. Arms wrapped around her stomach, she rocks back and forth, hoping for the pain to subside. It only gets worse. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, nausea starts to kick in... luckily for the Maitland's carpet, she makes it to the bathroom in time.
"Yuck," Clara moans after five straight minutes of violent vomiting. She rinses out her mouth, then plops down on the edge of the bathtub, ready in case there's another bout of nausea.
Was it something I ate last night? she wonders. I cooked lasagna... none of the ingredients were bad, I'm pretty sure...didn't eat anything weird yesterday...
Clara whimpers as another wave of pain hits. She leans on the wall, the cool porcelain feeling nice on her warm skin. She'd never felt this ill in her entire life, and it was all so sudden. She'd felt perfectly fine yesterday and the day before...
Maybe it's just a bug.

Later that Morning

"Smells good Clara," Mr. Maitland replies as he walks into the kitchen, dressed for work. He happens to look over his nanny's shoulder to see what she is cooking... and does a double take. "Whoa Clara," he says with a laugh. "Now I know Artie and Angie eat a lot, but they don't eat that much..."
Clara looks down at the surplus of pancakes, bacon and eggs she's cooked. She bites her lip, embarrassed, not realizing she'd made so much... and who said anything about this food being for Angie and Artie too?
"Yeah, I'm just really...really hungry this morning," Clara says. Hey, it's the truth...
Just then, Angie and Artie come downstairs.
"Mmm, pancakes!" exclaims Artie. Clara begins to put food on a plate for him as Angie rolls her eyes.
"I don't want pancakes," she says.
Clara shrugs. "More for me, then."
Angie rolls her eyes again and makes herself a bowl of cereal. Clara makes a plate of food for herself and Mr. Maitland, then grabs a little something extra before sitting down to eat.
"Ewww!" Angie shrieks, staring at Clara. "Umm...Clara? You do know that's mustard you're putting on your pancakes?"
Artie and Mr. Maitland look at Clara's pancakes. Clara looks down too, realizing how strange she looks right now. "Oh... um, well I read somewhere that mustard has lots of nutritional benefits... when eaten in the morning time."
"I've never heard that before," Mr. Maitland says.
"It's a new medical study."
She ignores the pancakes for the moment to start eating her bacon. But after only a few bites, she feels it wanting to come back up.
"Ugh," Clara says, putting the piece back down on her plate as if there was a stranger's hair on it. "Bacon's gross."
"But you love bacon," Artie says.
"Not anymore," Clara says, placing a hand on her stomach. "Excuse me-" she abruptly leaves the table and jets to the bathroom.
"Ughhh! What is happening to me?!" Clara groans to herself after her vomiting fit.
"Clara?" Mr. Maitland's voice asks cautiously from the other side of the door. "Are you okay? Do I need to call a doctor?"
Not "a" doctor, Clara thinks, "the" Doctor would be more like it...
"No," Clara calls from the other side. "I'll be okay. I think I just have a bug or something. Don't worry."

A few days later

"Clara, your food habits are getting atrocious," Angie replies. Clara looks down at her lunch- fish fingers and custard-and shrugs.
"It's good to try new things."
"This morning for breakfast you ate pickles dipped in vanilla ice cream! And last night for dinner you put ketchup on your mac and cheese!"
"Hey!" Artie says; Angie and Clara turn to see him standing in front of a cabinet, shaking an empty sleeve of jammie dodgers. "They're all gone! This was almost a full pack yesterday!"
"That's it," Angie says, crossing her arms and giving Clara a look. "I'm telling dad you're eating us out of house and home."
"Fine," Clara says, "I'll go to the grocery store."
"C'mon kids," replies. "Clara, you sure you don't want to go to the cinema with us?"
"Nah," Clara says. "I'll be fine."
"Don't eat all the food while we're gone," Angie teases. Clara rolls her eyes. A while after the Maitlands leave, the pain in Clara's stomach starts acting up again.
"Ugh," she moans as she plops down on the couch. She looks down at her stomach.
"Why are you hurting so bad? Hmm?"
She lies down on the couch and closes her eyes, feeling tired anyway. I'll just take a nap. Naps fix everything.
She manages to doze, and after a while she's woken by Angie and Artie coming through the door, talking excitedly.
"Clara!" calls. "We're home!"
He enters to see Clara lying on the couch.
"Oh, hi! Welcome home-oww."
"Clara, are you alright?" Mr. Maitland asks. "I wasn't going to say anything, but I heard you in the bathroom vomiting this morning."
"I think I just ate something bad, is all."
"I think your pregnant!" Angie teases. Clara's eyes pop open. Oh god...t-that's actually possible...the Doctor and I... that explains everything... she can feel her heart sink to her stomach. She gets off the couch and runs upstairs.

"Clara?" Mr. Maitland calls after her. "Clara?" "Good going Angie," Artie says.
"I was just kidding," Angie defends.

Clara gets to her room, closes the door, and puts her face in her hands. Pregnant. She and the Doctor had made love just about a week earlier; it had been after leaving from a paradise planet, where he'd shown her the most beautiful sunset in the universe. Both of them knew that giving in to their desires would happen at some point... and when it did, it was hot. It was passionate. It was only one time. But once is all it takes, huh? She manages to get over to her bed, sits down, and puts her head in her hands. How was the Doctor going to react to this? He was a renegade, alien time traveler for goodness' sake; he didn't do domestic. He had universes to save, duties to fufill. And there's no room in his life for 3 a.m. feedings and diaper changes...