He stood in the doorway staring at the sleeping angel, his remarkable mind seemingly unable to focus on anything but the fact that she carried a child within her. His child. He didn't feel his own tears, so caught up was he in watching Rose sleep. He thought back to the day they'd overcome the wall that had defined their relationship. Without a doubt it had been the most remarkable point in his long, long life. Still, he felt like the world's biggest prat - Rassilon, he'd all but forced her. He knew she'd enjoyed it, wanted it, but he remembered the way her eyes had widened with what had to have been fear when he all but slammed her into the bookcase. She'd never mentioned it but a few days later he'd caught a glimpse of the bruises the shelf had left, and felt even more horrible for hurting her. She hadn't run from him afterward, nor had she ever brought it up, and he didn't want to mention it for fear of hearing her say it had been a mistake. Better a lifetime of not knowing than run the risk of learning she regretted what had blazed between them.

Still, as he stood there watching her, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on the negative. He was too stunned by the fact that - against all odds, disregarding all laws of biology or reason - this remarkable slip of a human was going to make him a father. He moved to sit in the chair across from her, simply gazing at her as she slept. How long he held his vigil he knew to the second, but didn't care about in the least. He was too busy watching his Rose, his beautiful, wonderful, capricious Rose. She shifted uncomfortably and he had her in his arms before even he knew what he was going to do. Without conscious decision he carried her out of the library and down the softly-lit hallway. The Tardis had led him to a single door, and he was both pleased and surprised to find that it opened to his own bedroom. A few sure steps had him standing beside his bed, getnyl laying his sleeping burden to the soft mattress, covering her with a comforter while being careful not to wake her. A brief moment's deliberation and then he was doing what he had longed to do since the little blonde whirlwind made herself a place in his life. He stretched out on the bed, curling himself protectively around her. With Rose in his arms he found it easy to fall asleep for the first time in ages.

That night, the nightmares disappeared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Warmth. almost didn't want to wake up for fear of losing the feelings she knew had to be residual sensations from the dream she'd just had, a dream of a little tow-headed girl with wide, curious eyes, who had run to her and called her 'Momma'. However, nature was a fickle shrew sometimes, and Rose had no choice but to open her eyes - and stare in shock. Instead of her typical pink and white surroundings, she was in a room done up in what looked like wood grain paneling and other things she'd never seen before. She caught the faint musical strains of some string instrument, the scent of something that was almost cedar but not quite. She moved to sit up and look around but stopped short, staring in confusion at the arm that was draped over her side, the hand resting lightly on her stomach.

"Um...good morning?" Turning her head to look behind her, she was shocked to see his tousled hair, his deceptively boyish grin. Rose felt her world stand on end so wonderfully that she never dared hope. How longhad she wished to be here, like this, with him? It was so surprising that it chased her voice away. Unfortunately, he misinterpreted her joyful silence as something else entirely, and before she could blink he was out of bed, babbling something about adjustments and a tri-centering hydropump system, and then darted out the door leaving her laying, confused and sad, in the lingering warmth of the fluffy comforter. She stayed there a little while until the bed grew cold, thinking deep thoughts until she came to a conclusion. After a hesitant moment, Rose stood and headed towards the door. It was time they talked.