Magic! The chapter appears! I really don't have much to say beforehand about this one, other than the confusing heads-up that it's kind of sort of told in a POV that switches from the Master to Rose and back. I bid you all thanks for the support and such, because I would probably die without it. (No I wouldn't, not really, so don't put that kind of pressure of my fate on yourself. It's not healthy.) Then again, I did say the same thing about seeing Alice In Wonderland, and I saw that Saturday, so we'll never know if waiting another week to see that really would have been fatal to me.
Disclaimer: Do I own Doctor Who? Not by a bloody longshot.
"What about 'Luke' if it's a boy? I've always liked that name."
"All right, but I'm also writing down 'Leia'."
"Doctor, if we have twins and we name it 'Luke' and 'Leia,' our children will be mercilessly mocked for the rest of their lives."
"Or worshipped by the nerds of the world. It's called a silver lining."
The Master, sick of throwing peanuts in the air to attempt to catch them in his mouth and missing, listened to the Doctor and Rose make a list of possible names for their baby. He decided to add his own input. "Isn't torturing your kids with what they'll be called half the fun of naming them?"
The Doctor looked up at him. "Do you have children?"
"None that I'm aware of."
"Then any point you have to make is null and void." He turned back to Rose on the other side of the console. "Maybe we could do a random sort of naming thing. Like, go to any point in time and the first person we meet, we name Little Alien Baby after them."
Rose smiled mischievously. "If it's a girl, we could call it 'Jackie'."
"Yeah, and we could jump into a pit of lava, just for the heck of it."
"Doctor—"
"You know, I still have yet to meet the infamous Jackie Tyler," the Master pointed out. Beside him, Rose dipped her hand into the tin of peanuts and greedily took in a handful. She threw about half the amount into her mouth. All the while, the Master watched with distaste, but she never noticed.
The mother of the next Time Lord. God help us all.
"Let's hope it stays that way," muttered the Doctor. "I can't imagine how an encounter between the two of you would go."
"Maybe Mum would slap him, too," said Rose.
"In that case, Master, you're welcome to the Powell Estate any time you want."
"Oh, Doctor. Doctor, Doctor, Doc. You're so funny," chuckled the Master wryly. "Hey, I've got a great idea! Why don't you call the kid 'Koschei'?"
"Who's the funny one now?" The Doctor retorted.
"What? 'Koschei' is a perfectly good name!"
"We're not naming the child after you!"
The Master grumbled, "You don't have to be so rude about it." He took a peanut out of the tin and flicked it at the Doctor. The Doctor looked as if he might kill him.
"Boys, please!" Rose exclaimed. "Master, we are not going to name the child 'Koschei.' I'm sorry."
"It's quite all right," he said politely, casting a grimace at the Doctor. "See? At least she's nice about it."
The Doctor groaned and banged his head against the console.
"What about 'Eleanor'?" suggested Rose. "Like, of Aquitaine? Shewas cool, and we could call her 'Ellie' for short. And also, have we decided that the Little Alien Baby would take my surname? I'm only assuming, because I don't know if you even have a surname."
"You know what happens when you assume," remarked the Master wisely.
"Are you five?"
"Marigold, you don't want to know how old I am."
Rose growled internally. She figured if she growled aloud, it might give the Master a reason to remark that she was a lady and not a lion, although, she probably would bite his head off following the statement.
"What about 'Napoleon?" said the Doctor.
"Oh, come on! You shoot down 'Koschei' but take a stab at that?" The Master scowled, stuffing a heap of peanuts into his mouth. He didn't pay attention to the fact that he dealt the action in the very same way Rose had minutes ago, but of course, even if he had noticed, he would have considered himself to be in a position where such a thing was allowed.
"There's no way I'm calling our son that," Rose stated.
"It's the name of a leader, so that could inspire him—it—to live with greatness. Or maybe 'Charlemagne'?" the Doctor went on. He balanced on the balls of his feet, swaying back and forth, grinning. "We could call him Charlie."
"Do you want our child to get beaten up?"
"He wouldn't get beaten up," said the Master. "Not while he's got a sonic laser."
"And where's he going to get a sonic laser?" asked the Doctor. The swaying ceased.
"Why, from his good ol' Uncle Master, of course."
"You aren't giving Little Alien Baby a weapon. Furthermore, who even knows if you'll be around by the time the baby's born?"
The Master glared at him and snapped, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing really. Just answer me this: Are you one hundred percent sure that you're not being wanted on some planet or in some time?"
"Are you calling me a criminal?"
"You're not exactly known for being the most trustworthy person! You'd make an excellent politician."
"I resent that! I resent all of that!"
"And yet, you've still not answered the question!"
"Well, let me tell you, Doctor, I am more than one hundred percent sure! I'm one hundred and fifty percent sure!"
"What about two hundred?"
"I'm three hundred percent sure!"
"Four hundred?"
The Master jumped to his feet, spilling the entire tin of peanuts onto the console floor. Rose scowled as the Tardis's newest companion shouted, "Four-fifty!"
"Six hundred? Seven hundred?"
"Nine thousand and fifty, and it's all in your face!"
"OI! That's ENOUGH!" Rose shouted. "I don't care how much you two want to compete for 'World's Most Epic Time Lord'; if you're going to act like total arses, I swear, Little Alien Baby is going to give me the green light to beat the crap out of you two!"
Both men shrunk back into their shells, though not without at least childishly sticking their tongues out at each other. Rose sighed. Oh, yeah. This is a great environment to raise a child in. It's Pee-wee's bloody Playhouse.
"Do either of you know where you're going to have the baby?" the Master asked, still sullen from being scolded.
"Oh." Rose blinked. "I hadn't thought of that."
"You can't very well give birth to a half-alien child in a normal hospital."
"No, I suppose not."
"We could have a home birth," commented the Doctor. "The Tardis is equipped."
"Can you deliver a baby though?"
"Rose, my name is 'The Doctor'."
"Really? I thought it was 'The Freak Who Never Leaves Me Alone'," said the Master.
"That's only what you call me."
Rose pondered the idea of having a child in the Tardis. "I don't know about a home birth. Not that I think you're lacking in any mad birthing skills, but I just think it'd be a little strange to have a baby in the same place I brush my teeth, you know?"
"What about your mum's flat?"
Rose nearly laughed. "Do you really want to be delivering a baby while my mother is walking around, screaming at you about whether you're legally allowed to be doing this and if you even know what you're doing?"
The Doctor stared at something far off in the distance, horrified. "Point made. Forget your mum."
"What if you had your baby on the planet Gorzola?" the Master said.
The Doctor gave him a strange look, perhaps the most civil expression he'd ever looked at his opponent with. "Gorzola's made entirely of cheese."
"Yeah, so?"
"So you want us to have a baby on a planet made of cheese?"
"I'm thinking outside the box."
"Is the box made of cheese, too? And what if the kid is lactose intolerant?"
The Master pouted. "Chrysanthemum, your baby daddy's mocking me."
"Honestly, Master, I think you deserve that one," giggled Rose.
"Well…" The Doctor flicked a switch on the Tardis, which had started blinking a light in a pattern of four beats at once. The blinking stopped as soon as the switch was thrown back. "We could always try Torchwood."
Rose's gasp was so loud, she wondered if it echoed throughout the whole Tardis. "Really? Could we?"
"What's Torchwood?" The Master asked.
Ignoring him, the Doctor told Rose, "Why not? I mean, we need a place that deals with aliens. We could go to another planet, but I figure you don't feel all too comfortable about a green specimen with tentacles delivering L. A. Baby."
"What's Torchwood?"
"And Jack will be there. That's a pro all in itself, right?"
"Right," beamed Rose. "Let's do it."
"What's Torchwood?"
"Great! I'll give Jack a ring; we'll stop by tomorrow."
"HEY! WHAT IS TORCHWOOD!" yelled the Master. He snatched a huge bag of crisps from underneath his seat, where he'd been keeping a stash of assorted foods so that he wouldn't have to get up, and popped open the bag, sending crisps flying everywhere. Rose shrieked and laughed, picking off the crisps that fell into her hair.
"Was that necessary?" the Doctor inquired, more exasperated than annoyed anymore.
The Master shrugged and bit loudly into a crisp. "Probably not, but it was effective."
"Torchwood's this organization that specializes in aliens," Rose explained, picking the formerly flying crisps off of her stomach, which was big enough now to be used as a catcher in case any other food decided to soar into the air. "We have a friend there, Captain Jack Harkness, who runs the place."
The Doctor nodded. "We're old chums."
"Ooo, I'm jealous," the Master mentioned blankly. "Wait—you say they specialize in aliens?"
"Yes, and I know what you're thinking, and you'd better not do it."
"Why? What's he thinking?" Rose asked, but her mind was suddenly filled with an image of the Master, hunting guns and bombs and other alien technology and stashing them away for later use. The image evaporated, and while she silently thanked Little Alien Baby for supplying what she was being left out of, she snapped at the Master, "Don't even think about it!"
She would have liked for him to have been at least somewhat intimidated by her, or at least have pretended to be, but he snorted instead. "Are you trying to join our Time Lord-y club, Petunia?"
"MY NAME IS ROSE!"
"Yes, I understood that by your apparent thorns."
She nearly slapped him, but he rolled off of the bench before her hand collided with his face.
"I have an idea about the name of the Halfling," he proposed, standing and acting as if the pregnant flower near him didn't want to kill him. "How about a game?"
"Uh-oh," said the Doctor.
"It's a simple game, where we all draw straws."
"Danger, Will Robinson."
"Whoever gets the largest straw wins."
"You want us to pick a name for our baby, the only Time Lord-human child in existence, by drawing straws?" Rose cried. "Are you mental?"
"I feel I get as much say in this decision as the two of you, and since neither of you seem keen on letting me help, it's my duty for England, or at least as a man with an English accent, to make myself involved, whether you crab cakes like it or not."
"Brilliant reasoning, mate," said the Doctor sarcastically.
"At least he's making an effort," Rose sighed.
The Doctor grimaced to himself. His next words were clearly against his better judgment. "All right. We'll draw straws. But you can't cheat, and you can't name it after yourself."
"And if you win, you can only name it if it's a girl," Rose added. "I just thought of a perfect name for if it's a boy."
"And what would that be?"
"'Peter,'" she said. "If it's a boy, it has to be 'Peter'."
The Doctor smiled. "I think that's perfect." They locked eyes, neither believing what was happening. Not only were they having a baby, but it was being named. The fact that they almost had an identity for the Little Alien Baby brought things back down to Earth, although they were nowhere near the planet in actuality.
"Okay, I don't know what kind of weirdo moment you two are having, but I cross my heart," the Master said with a grin. For effect, he made an X over the side of his chest.
Rose tore her eyes away from the Doctor's, having a hard time keeping a blush from rising into her cheeks. "What about your other heart?" she asked.
"That one's iffy. We'll see." He sprang off of the bench, sending the crisps flying too.
"That's just wasting food!" Rose yelled, but he had already dashed out of the room. She stared sadly at the bag of crisps thrown across the floor. "You'd better be nicer with the chips!"
"What did we just agree to?" the Doctor wondered aloud. He gasped, the realization that the Master would be naming their child overcoming him, and doubled over like he was dying. "What have we done?!"
"You're being a bit dramatic. Maybe it won't be so bad." Rose attempted to think optimistically, but even the spurts of energy in her head from the Little Alien Baby seemed to be vaguely anxious.
What happened to the one-way decision of not letting anyone name the baby something horrific?! she screamed at herself. The man doesn't even know your own name!
"Whoever has the largest straw wins," called the Master. He bounced back into the console room, three straws in hand. He put them all in his fist, leveling their height, and finally, when he knew they were perfect, held them out to the Doctor and Rose. Reluctantly, they each took one.
They looked down at the straws in their hands.
The Master grinned. "I guess I need a baby book of names."
The Doctor looked like he was going to kill him, but just as he reached out, the Master stepped away and ran, far away from the pregnant human and the homicidal Time Lord. "Don't you have a captain to phone?" he called, silently thanking whatever god he could for the Tardis being so big and having so many places to hide, for what could probably be for days and days and days and days…
He was going to need a lot more peanuts.
Peanut. Maybe that's a good name…