A/N: Here is chapter three! I hope you enjoy and reviews are much appreciated, just make sure if you don't like it either a) don't review and stop reading or b) give me some helpful, constructive criticism. Any anonymous hate I will remove. :)

Anyway, hope this is okay!

Part Three

"It's surreal this, isn't it?" Clara says, sitting down at the kitchen table. There's a cup of tea in her grip in her favourite red spotty mug: it was somewhat of a tradition, now, to have a cup of tea when they were discussing something. He didn't even have to ask for her to put the kettle on- she automatically did it in anyway. "Us having a Big Grown Up conversation."

He laughs slightly, reaching forward for a jammy dodger. Clara's put a plate of them in the centre of the table. He supposes it is, really. Surreal. The pair of them have acted like kids, running around time and space in his snog-box without really much of a second thought. Of course, they'd faced deadly foes and really dark situations and there was always the urge within him to keep her safe which definitely wasn't childish, but apart from that, they hadn't done too much Big Grown Up Stuff.

But that's all about to change. Now they were going to have… Well, a baby, they couldn't just fly about the universe with their eyes wide open anymore. No, they needed hindsight and limited danger- or no danger at all, really. He couldn't let a child (his child) be susceptible to the horrors and the fear that the universe can throw at you.

Clara takes a sip of her tea, not taking her eyes off him. She looks a lot better today- she's put some make-up on and one of her pretty dresses, tied her hair back from her face. She was sick, again, this morning; but it's as if it doesn't scare her as much anymore. Now she knows she hasn't got some sort of weird Space Flu and she's just pregnant-

Just. Just pregnant. Actually, she doesn't know whether that's scarier than Space Flu. Probably is.

Definitely is.

She coughs. Looks like it's going to be her to start the conversation. "Uh… What are we going to do, then?"

The Doctor scratches the back of his head, leaning back in his chair. "You're pregnant."

She raises her eyebrows. "Yep. Kind of established that."

His hand darts out for another biscuit. He dunks it into his own cup of tea, watching the ripples expand and expand in the liquid until they completely disappear. "What do you want to do?"

He's awkward. His hands dance across the table, constantly fidgeting. It gets to the stage where Clara has to physically stop him and force him to look at her without getting distracted. "This isn't just about me, Doctor."

"I know, I know. Sorry," he apologises, reaching out for her hand. He weighs it in his; outlining her veins with his forefinger. "It's just… I just want to know what you think. Your unaltered opinion. I know this partly my- Fault? Fault, yes… My fault. But do you want this baby, Clara? Do you want to put yourself through this?"

She hesitates. "My unaltered opinion?"

"Yes."

"Well… At first, no," she admits and she can feel him tense. "I suppose I didn't. I'm twenty-four; children have always been something that I've wanted, but just not this very moment. Not now."

His whole face falls. He feels so guilty about this- he should've taken more precautions, sussed out all the possibilities but no, he didn't. When he offered Clara Oswald all of time and space, this was not what she signed up for and it makes him feel awful, giving her all this responsibility when really she's still just a kid, so young, herself…

"No, listen!" she commands, because the look on his face hurts her too. This is still partly her fault. Even though he did say that humans and Time Lord's don't procreate, she should have still known better. Paid a little more attention just in case. "Didn't you hear the at first bit?"

"Sorry?"

"I said, at first, no." she reiterates slowly, her forehead crinkling as she takes another sip. "But, now, having a whole night to think it over- well, I can't. Get rid of it, I mean. I can't get rid of it."

"Oh." he says. There's no point trying to hide the half-smile taking over his lips. "I see."

"It's a baby. It's a body and blood and a brain… I just don't think I'd be able to forgive myself if I didn't give it a chance to use them."

There are a few moments of silence between them, mainly just processing their thoughts. The Doctor comprehending what Clara's just said while Clara tries to comprehend what she's just said as well. She just didn't think she'd be hearing those words, those decisions, come out her mouth right now- so all of a sudden. It excites her, this prospect, but it absolute downright terrifies her at exactly the same time.

The Doctor reignites the discussion. "Do you want my unaltered opinion, then?"

"If you don't mind."

He looks down at the table. The crumbs from the jammy dodger have left a trail on the wood, so he follows it with his forefinger. "Well… I suppose, I felt the same as you, at first. No. I've spent so long alone, Clara. Too long. But that loneliness, that isolation- it's sort of just became a part of me, who I am. I've had companions, like you, Clara; but you come and go and however hard that is I just have to accept it. But this, now, a baby- I can't just move and carry on when I lose you."

Clara gulps. He actually thought about this? He thought that he was going to lose her like he's lost everyone else? And their baby… She'd never really thought about this side before. The notion makes her stomach twist.

"But then… Everything ends," he smiles sadly. He knows that too well. "No matter how much I hate it, it's true. Everything ends Clara and I can't ever stop that from happening. Well. The only way would to stop things from beginning in the first place- and I can't possibly do that. I can't just wander round the universe halting decisions because I don't want to finish them."

She nods. He's never gone so deep before, delved so much into his own personal feelings. He hasn't confided in her like this.

"And a baby…" he exhales noisily, blowing out his cheeks for emphasis. "This is a massive change. For me, so long without a family and then suddenly this. At first, I thought I couldn't cope. We couldn't cope. But then… Maybe this is exactly what I need, both need, we just haven't realised it yet."

Her eyebrow cocks up and she leans forward onto the table. "Does that mean we're having a baby, then? Is that what we both want?"

He considers this. Yeah, well, he thinks so. How… Odd. "Just a reminder, Clara, this won't be any ordinary, human pregnancy. I've never seen a human/Time Lord hybrid before, not from the gestation period- but I can tell you from the off that it won't be straightforward and it won't be easy."

Clara shifts uneasily in her chair. "Yes. Okay…"

"I'm using practically all guesses and approximations here, but it'll take a bit longer than nine months to develop. I'm estimating probably edging more along eleven, twelve- nine is completely normal for a human foetus, but for a part Time Lord there's still a lot more developing to do. A more highly-evolved brain, dual hearts; definitely about twelve months."

She grimaces. "Great!"

But he's not finished. "Then, of course, is all your classic pregnancy symptoms but of course they'll be heightened to much a higher extent, like your morning sickness. I mean, you've only been pregnant for two weeks and already it's kicking in and it doesn't stop until at least month three I'm guessing. Then there's mood swings, cravings, migraines…"

"Migraines?"

"Oh, yes! Time Lords are very intelligent species, you see. Our brains just seem to sort of connect, like a sort of psychic link. It got dimmed millennia ago now as the High Council found that invading others thoughts was a bit inappropriate and a tiny bit creepy, but it's still there. Like a sort of tickling sensation at the back of the brain. It's quite pleasant, really," he smiles nostalgically, before snapping back to reality. "But that psychic bond, it's a lot stronger between family links. Even though you aren't a Time Lord, Clara, you'll be able to feel it. And that takes a lot of time to get used to, so you'll probably begin to get horrible migraines. Like an army of dwarves are trying to pull your brain apart with a pick-axe."

Clara's eyes widen as she almost spits out the mouthful of tea she's just drank. "Oh! Brilliant! That sounds lovely!"

He's gone off it his own little world for a second, before realising that the dwarves with the pick-axes aren't just going to be an incredibly funny mental image but literally the pain Clara will feel- and this is just the first few months of her pregnancy. He's not even going to start on the giving birth part (not that he knows a hell of a lot about that either.) He snaps out of it and his eyes soften with comfort for the girl who is most definitely just a bit scared in front of him.

"But once that bit is all over, we'll have a baby, Clara. A whole other person with your eyes and my hair and your sass and my…"

"Stupidity?" she interjects cheekily.

He shoots her disapproving look. "My cleverness. My cleverness, Clara. And I think… It'll be a bit brilliant and definitely beautiful. So, yes, if you think you can cope with that… We're having a baby."

There's no point in trying to smother the massive grin that's taken over her face and that just makes him smile back. She was going to have several months of struggle and then years of it after that; but the fact that the Doctor wasn't going to abandon her and they were doing this together made it all less daunting and scary.

She's drained her whole cup of tea, so she wanders over to the kettle in order to pour herself another- but the Doctor comes up behind her and takes the mug from her hands.

"Hey!" she retaliates grumpily, "What are you doing?"

"If we're taking this whole pregnancy thing seriously, you've had enough tea for today," he scolds, stuffing the mug in the sink. "You can't have too much caffeine. It isn't good for you."

Clara rolls her eyes. She didn't expect the protectiveness to kick in that quickly. "What am I supposed to drink, then?"

He invades the cupboards above the sink for a glass, grinning when he sees one with one of those bendy straws coming out but deciding that that one is best saved for another day. He instead goes for a normal, clear glass which he fills up with water straight from the tap.

"Water," he passes it to her, "Here you go."

She looks down at the transparent liquid with disgust- she doesn't mind water, but it's so dull and tasteless. "My dad always tried to make me drink water when I was a kid. It's good for you, Clara!"

Then she pauses and it's almost as if all the colour drains from her cheeks.

"What? What is it?" he asks worriedly, bounding over to her.

"Oh my god. We're going to have to tell my dad, aren't we?" she says, "And he still thinks your some creepy mad pervert!"

"Creepy mad pervert?!"

Clara shakes her head nonchalantly. "He thinks that of all my boyfriends. Don't go thinking you're anything special- although, you are the first creepy mad pervert to knock me up, so that is a first."

"But I haven't even met your dad! How can he possibly judge me already?"

"Well…" Clara wanders back over to the table so she can sit down. The glass of water goes straight onto the surface, untouched. "He thinks you're the horrible, awful person who stole me away every Wednesday so I could no longer go round to his for tea like I usually do."

The Doctor follows. He's pretty much livid. "But you told me Wednesday was the day you weren't busy!"

"Exactly," her nose crinkles at the thought, "I've been looking for an excuse to get out of tea for years. Thanks, for that. I'm sick of him banging on about all his stupid government conspiracies."

He groans. He's had many angry mothers on his back, but an angry father sounds just as bad. "We better go and see him as soon as possible, then. I'm guessing you'll want to see the Maitland's, too?"

Clara shoots a look straight up at him. "Oh God, yes! I can't keep being Angie and Artie's nanny if I'm going to have my own baby, can I? I mean, they've been looking for a proper nanny for ages and I've always said I'll be there for as long as they need… But I can only be there for a few months, can't I? And, oh god, my dad doesn't know you're an alien, does he? He can't know. I think he'll possibly go into cardiac arrest if he finds out that he's going to have a part alien grandchild. Or the fact he's going to have a grandchild, full stop-"

The Doctor interrupts by clamping his hands down on her shoulders. "Stop panicking, Clara! It'll be fine. I hope. Probably. Just, uh, break it to him gently…"

"My dad is incredibly overprotective," Clara warns, "So it'll probably be you that ends up broken somehow. When I was seventeen, he broke my boyfriend's nose. But that was just after my mum died, I guess. He just didn't want to see me moving away from him. He might be better now."

"Uh… Yes! Hopefully! Should we go, then? Make this swift and have it done and over with? Two weeks out of eleven months, it'll give him a lot of time to think it over."

"Okay. Just as long as you put on some protective clothing first."

"… I'll grab my helmet."