Thank you to the two of you who left reviews this week and to those who have added this to their favorites and/or subscribed. It means a great deal. :)

To the Guest who asked for Ponds – You asked and it didn't seem out of the realm of possibility so I threw caution to the wind, and you reviewed so I felt it was well deserved. =] And yes, at this point the Ponds are stuck in New York. They would have left when Isa was around three.


Thursday Afternoons

The Tenth Week – The Sitter

He had left with Isaiah hours ago only to return to a flustered River who swung open the door open in nothing by a white silk dressing gown. He sputtered, watching her with confusion as Isaiah squeezed past them both and slipped back into his usual after school routine.

She was already speaking before he even thought to listen which cost him the first half of her statement. "…It'll only be a few hours. I swear." She pleaded, her back to him now as she moved for the stairs. He followed her without second thought, Isaiah's school bag still slung over his shoulder. "I promised the head of the board weeks ago and Julie just cancelled on me." Walking into her bedroom she threw the phone in her hand on the bed in vexation.

The Doctor waited patiently as she continued to ramble, the stress causing her hands to fly as she explained that her usual sitter came down with the flu the week of a big test and couldn't sacrifice the time. He smiled lazily, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe as he watched her pace. He knew what she was asking and why she was working herself up into such a state befuddled the man. Of course he would say yes, there was no reason as to why he shouldn't. But none the less, he found her anxious talk and fumbling hands rather adorable. So he let her continue.

She stopped, slipping her body onto the ottoman at the end of her bed while she looked at him the question, for the second time poised at her lips. "Sure," He answered before she could actually ask if he would sit with their son while she attended a dinner for the University. "You know, I'm here for anything either of you need." She nodded slowly and he half expected her to make a side comment about how he was only around once a week but instead The Doctor's wife smiled brilliantly before she leaped off the ottoman and kissed him with thankful enthusiasm.

The Doctor found a place, sitting on the end of her bed as he watched her flutter about the room in a rush to get ready. With every circuit through her bedroom and the en suite she added something new; her hair was pulled up neatly, make-up done expertly, a little black dress was awned and perfume filled his nostrils as it took its place against her skin while her shoes were placed, waiting, by the door. He watched quietly as River half hummed half mumbled to herself as she rummaged around her vanity in search of something that seemed unnecessary to the man who had been watching her get ready.

She giggled to herself causing the man to drag his eyes up to hers in the mirror. "You stare at me like you follow Isa around, were you ever a dog, Sweetie?" She teased with a playful smile and wink.

He could have taken her comment in a number of ways, but he knew better than to think that of his wife. She was simply teasing in a loving manner and truth be told he did rather enjoy the loving attention. "It's the Song charm." He teased back. "That and well, some days I can't quite believe that you're both mine."

"Get used to it big guy." She teased back with a smile her eyes refusing to leave his in the vanity as her head titled and she tried blindly to slip a pair of earrings into her ears. She continued to talk, asking about Isaiah and what he was doing on the floor below them checking that he had actually started his homework and not moved for cartoons. When he replied in the positive towards homework River's face shifted completely. A predatory and wicked smile slipped into place as she turned and stalked towards her husband. The brash and flirty River Song he fell in love with was coming back out of her shell with each passing week.

The Doctor had been gaping at her since he brought Isaiah home and finally it had driven her insane. Reaching the man, who had slipped down onto the ottoman she caught his mouth with her own, her teeth sinking tantalizingly into his bottom lip as The Doctor himself let out a soft growl.

"Mum!" Isaiah's voice called from the floor below them as his feet sounded on the stairs. Groaning River pulled back from her husband, her eyes rolling as she gnawed at her lip in thought. Closing her eyes, she counted softly. When painted red lips mouthed the fifth number Isa burst through the door. "Mum, look!" The boy jumped around the room, his excitement radiating through his movements. Isaiah came to a stop, beside his mother's ottoman, the book tossed onto the piece of furniture as the boy fought to regulate his breathing. "The Last Centurion, mum." He had to stop again, almost panting with the struggle, excitement mixing with exhaustion. "He's so cool!" The Doctor's face lit up as the boy continued to talk; The Last Centurion, but he had reset the universe. Rory was simple old Rory, not a plastic reincarnation of a Roman soldier. How could that story continue to exist when the Pandorica was no more?

River clicked her tongue, a small smile playing across her face as she watched her son's amusement and her husbands puzzled face. "That's not your homework, Isa." She pointed to the book, its cover already worn with the tender love the book had been granted in the hands of grateful owners. It had been a gift, she explained to The Doctor only, from a man who thought himself more than two-thousand-years-old. Isaiah giggled at his mother's words, remembering the stories but not the man himself, exactly. He climbed up next to The Doctor, the book back in his hands as he leant into the older man heavily.

"It's like my homework." The child tried sheepishly knowing already that he wasn't going to get away with it. Finding comfort in The Doctor's lap a cheeky smile slipped across his face as his mother raised an eyebrow. "You look really pretty, Mama. Doesn't she look pretty, Dad?!" Isaiah jumped in his father's lap with an over exaggerated excitement. The Doctor watched as River flinched, she still wasn't okay with the title Isaiah had gallantly bestowed him with and even though he recognized her discomfort he couldn't help the breathless 'gorgeous' that slipped out of his mouth.

River's cheeks flushed with the flattery that was suddenly surrounding her. She had grown used to getting it from her small child who flowered her in compliments but the man, her husband, that was an affection she had drifted from and it certainly wasn't the typical type of affection anyway. Somehow, being here with The Doctor, having him visit every week it was changing him or he was just simply changing himself but either way the man was more human, which to his wife only made him more alien.

Smiling softly, she twirled for both of her boys as she giggled to herself and they applauded. When Isaiah, yet again began to compliment her she scooped him up in a tight hug before putting him down and shooing both himself and his father out of the room.

Pouting at the now closed door, both father and son stood with their shoulders slumped acting like kicked puppies whom of which had been left out in the rain. The ringing of the doorbell distracted them both and within a second The Doctor had Isaiah under his arm as he trotted down the stairs and pulled the door open wide.

The Doctor stopped, startled for a moment as he stared at the man on the other side of the door. A clean shaven, dark haired collected piece of human male stood in front of what could only be properly described as the Song boys, a charming smile in place as he tried to look around them both into the brightly lit house. "Is River home?" He asked, charming smile almost sickly. The Doctor couldn't hold back a pang of jealousy and nor could he control the urge to shut the front door in the man's face, which was exactly what he did with Isaiah still on his hip.

Isaiah giggled as the door clicked into place, leaving the charming looking man in the quick coming darkness that was infiltrating Leadworth bidding goodnight to its children and willing the adults to come out and play.

Isaiah held up his hand with a giggle promptly encouraging the man who was holding him to give him a high-five. The Doctor chuckled but the mirth died quickly on his lips at the sound of River's heels on the stairs. "Was that George?" She asked, the skirt of her dress bunched up in her hands as she ran down the stairs and playfully thwacked her husband on the arm. "Seriously, you're more childish than him." She smiled at her son who had hidden his face shyly in his father's neck as River squeezed herself between them and the door. "Shoo." She pushed The Doctor away, his face still resembling the wounded puppy she had kicked out of her room as Isaiah giggled at his mother's antics. Putting the boy on the ground The Doctor watched as Isaiah ran and hid around the doorway leading to the open left side of the house. He silently ushered The Doctor over as his mother pulled the door open.

Together they watched from around the corner as River apologized on their behalf for the rude behaviour bestowed upon a guest. The charming man, whose name had been revealed as George only smiled thicker at the beautifully dressed woman in front of him. The Doctor's frame tensed as he watched, jealously burning a fast track through his veins it wasn't until Isaiah put his little hand on his father's shoulder that The Doctor realized he had his fists clenched tightly.

"Who is he?" The man asked softly his hand on River's arm as he lent in a little too close for The Doctor's comfort. He wanted to ask the man's question and aim it at the little boy but The Doctor felt it unfair on the child. He couldn't ask if he wanted to anyway, Isaiah had jumped out from the doorway a particular title on his lips but his mother beat the boy to the punch, uttering that the awfully rude man who'd shut the door in his face was in fact the 'sitter'. With those words The Doctor slinked away from the door, pulling Isaiah with him as he led the boy to the kitchen intent on figuring out what to the feed the child above anything else.

River's hells followed them minutes later, a small smile on her face as she kissed Isaiah on the cheek and warned him to behave. "We'll be back around eleven, there's salad in the fridge. Isa can have one serve of ice-cream after dinner and that's if he eats all of it. If he's still hungry after that he can have fruit." Isaiah rolled his eyes as River stammered on pointing out the emergency numbers on the fridge before entailing what exactly was an emergency. She was about to duck out the door again unfazed that The Doctor had pulled back from her interactions when Isaiah called out.

"Mum, you need to say sorry." She stopped, her brow knitted as she asked him whatever for. "You hurt John's feelings. He's not my sitter, he's my daddy!"

"Isa," The Doctor started, the child's name a mild groan. "your mother has a date to get to and just because you – well she has to go, kiddo."

River shook her head with a soft laugh. "It's not a date, George works in the archaeology department, he had to drive past on his way to the dinner and offered me a lift, that's all." She stepped back into the room, warm smile on her face as she contemplated leaving the man who was waiting in the car in order to console the one who was sitting in the kitchen with her son. Shaking her head she smiled and threw them both a wink. "He has to be in bed by eight, no later than nine." She warned with a smile before blowing her son a kiss and slipping out of the door.

"So …" The Doctor turned to the little boy as he twiddled with his thumbs. "I know mum put out food but, fish fingers and custard?"

Instantly Isaiah's face scrunched up. "Fish fingers" he started, his eye brows knitting together before he continued. "and custard?" His face was a beautifully contorted mess. The boy stuck his tongue out promptly pretending to gag as his whole body repelled the idea.

"I'll have you know Amelia Pond loved it!" He answered back around a twirl as he moved to search River's fridge.

"Granny?" Isaiah asked, his head tilted with confusion. "You knew my granny?" The Doctor nodded with a large smile and a soft utterance of confirmation while he added in that he in fact knew Rory Williams too. "They don't live here anymore. They went away and they didn't even say goodbye, can you believe that?! Mum said we can't visit them anymore and we can't call them and that makes me sad but it is okay, I guess." He shrugged.

"Oh, Isaiah." The Doctor whooped. "This is no shrugging matter, leaving without a goodbye how horrid of them!" He exclaimed manically ignoring the fact that he was the one who swept them away and in turn got his friends, his in-laws stuck in a placed they really hadn't desired to be. He held up the little already open box of fish fingers and unceremoniously tipped its contents onto the tray Isaiah was patiently holding.

The boy shook his head as the now full tray was taken from him. He moved to protest against his father's words but instead was stopped. "Do you remember them?" The Doctor asked quietly as he moved about River's kitchen, a place he had rather enjoyed in her home.

He never cooked much, not in the TARDIS anyway the old girl never liked him smoking out the place and well, Amelia Pond had cooked for him since the day they first met. Stores of food were hidden away in his travelling home waiting to be found if he ever so deemed said place as great enough to mope in. There was always food. None he ever prepared himself. Of course, he had made River fish fingers and custard once, that time she found him after Manhattan, she was pregnant then, he realized and despised the food he put tenderly before her. His face paled suddenly, thinking that perhaps if she had turned down his food in disgust then her child, their child, would do the exact same thing. He held onto hope though. He would convince the boy, one bite was all it took. Besides, Isaiah was his child after all he should be immune to his father's odd tastes, but then again, twelve-thousand-years of time and space one had to shake up the tastebuds every now and then.

Slipping from the counter Isaiah hit the titled floor his bare feet causing soft sounds on the tiles as he ran for the display cabinet at the other end of the room. "We have pictures!" He exclaimed, a small skip in his step as he reached the cabinet and pulled the heavy bottom drawer open with a heavy huff. In his little boy way Isaiah pulled a box out of the draw and pushed it across the floor his hands on the box as he stuck his bum up in the air and pushed with all his might.

Patiently The Doctor watched as the boy slowly reached him. "These are mine." Isaiah stood as tall as his small height allowed as he tapped the box with his foot and looked up at his father proudly. "Mum puts pictures in here for me to look at so I don't ruin the others. Granny and Granddad are in here." He crouched again as he took the lid off the blue box. The pictures inside were unorganised and The Doctor assumed it was because of the young boy but Isaiah knew exactly what he was doing because he knew every inch of the contents.

Isaiah hurrahed when he found the picture he was looking for, holding it above his head with one hand he continued to look for another with free hand. Carefully The Doctor took the photograph from Isaiah admiring it under the soft kitchen light. It was a picture of Rory holding an incredibly tiny Isaiah who could have only been the length of the man's forearm. He ran his fingers over the picture tracing the small creases in Isaiah's new born skin and the length of Rory's face. It had been so long since he had seen the companions that became his family.

Flipping the picture over, hoping for some story behind the image he found, written neatly in River's dainty scroll ''Granddad' Rory naming Baby Blue – six weeks.' Chuckling softly, The Doctor smiled as he turned the picture over to study it again.

Flopping more pictures onto the counter, Isaiah tried his best to see the picture in his father's hands. "I was a small baby." He muttered, more interested in the man's face now then the picture. There was something hidden from Isaiah in John Smith's face as he stared at the picture a fond little smile tickling the corners of his mouth. The Doctor hummed, agreeing with the little boy. For six weeks old, he was indeed still rather small. "It's 'cause I have bad lungs. I can't grow proper." He huffed as he pulled himself up onto the counter, his little feet kicking at his mother's cupboards. "I'm the smallest one in my class. All the girls are bigger than me!" With another huff, this one in displeasure Isaiah dramatically crossed his arms over his chest.

"You'll get bigger than them." The Doctor told him with a comforting smile.

Isaiah bit his bottom lip. "I don't believe you."

Putting the photo down The Doctor leant into the little boy, his eyes squinted as he scrutinized the child. "Just you wait, Isa Song. You'll get taller than those girls." He bopped his son on the nose knowing that the child was still yet to hit a growth spurt that would eventually, hopefully, make him taller than the girls in his class. Isaiah shrugged, not willing to commit himself to the reassurance.

The sound of the buzzing timer pulled The Doctor away from the little boy. With his back to Isaiah the young child came to a sudden thought. "We don't have any pictures for my box." He almost shrieked, his body jolting so much so that he nearly slipped off the counter.

"You have lots of pictures."

"No!" The boy insisted. "We don't have any pictures, together, for my box." Pushing himself off the counter in dire need for his small feet to be on the floor Isaiah started moving in circles, his little mind panicked.

Dropping the hot tray to the stove top in order to tend to the panicked child The Doctor was quick to grab Isaiah and scoop him up off the floor. "Calm down," He soothed as he stood the boy on the counter, his hands on his arms squeezing gently. "It's okay, Isa. We can take pictures any time, maybe when your mum gets home then she can do it, okay?" The boy's eyes were wide, deep greens swimming in nearly there tears.

The boy shook his head. "But I've known you forever now and we don't have pictures from the start, I always have pictures from the start." Having calmed somewhat The Doctor allowed the boy to drop down from the counter in order to shift through his box of photo's again. "See, first cuddles with granddad and granny, and great granddad and my first day of school and riding a bike and my first Christmas…!" The boy continued to rattle on as he found picture after picture of his first everything.

"We can't worry about it now, Isa." He warned the young boy a promise already forming in his head to go back to their first week, even their second and make sure that a picture was taken. "Grubs up." He smiled, clapping the boy on the shoulder as he clambered to get everything back into the box before it could get ruined, or forgotten about.

"I'm gonna eat mum's salad if that's alright." He mumbled softly knowing that there was food pre-prepared for them and that John Smith's idea of dinner didn't at all sound appetising to his five-year-old stomach.

"Eat whatever else you like, but I promise you'll love this." Isaiah scrunched his face up as he shook his head vigorously his little body almost being swallowed whole while he dug through the fridge. Mocking shock horror, The Doctor caught the boy with one hand while he held onto the bowl encasing both the fish fingers and the custard in the other. Isaiah himself gripped onto his mother's salad bowl as he was carried into the living room against his will.

"Ready?" The Doctor asked, a slender fish finger covered in vanilla custard poised at his mouth, Isaiah doing exactly the same but looking more disgusted than pleased. The boy shook his head, his mouth closed tightly in case his had was possessed to push the odd concoction into his mouth. "C'mon." The Doctor moaned. "If you eat it you can have second helpings of desert."

Isaiah eyed off what he could only describe as the fish desert in front of him. With a promise of second helpings of ice-cream he couldn't really see the disadvantage in eating the thing. John Smith did say one, not all of them. Squeezing his eyes shut he thrust the stick of processed fish covered in vanilla custard into his mouth whole and chewed quickly. He slowed only a little as the sweet taste erupted over his tongue, the custard drowning out most of the fish enough for him to not actually realize that's what he was eating and that in fact, it was quite good.

Slowly, Isaiah cracked his eyes open as he swallowed the food in his mouth. The Doctor sat opposite him, starting with a proud grin towards the fact that the boy hadn't gotten up and run to the bathroom to spit it all out.

Without words, Isaiah reached for another and not so graciously traced it through the custard before eating it slower than the first. The Doctor stared, shocked. He had assumed the boy would like it, well he rather thought he would force him into liking it. But by the way Isaiah was reacting he really thought he was going to hate the odd mixture of food The Doctor had combined years ago with a young Amelia Pond before she became The Girl Who Waited.

He laughed loudly as Isaiah finished the second fish finger and move for another one happily enjoying the food as he every so often gazed at the television in aversion to his father's smug laughing eyes.

[…]

River slipped through the front door quietly her shoes and phone in her hand as she opened the front door just enough to squeeze through it. Tip toeing on the cool wood floorboards she lowered her shoes to the floor by the shoe rack promising herself to put them away properly at a lighter time. The whole house was dark, a soft light from the kitchen seeped under the ajar door. On her right, both sliding doors that led to the living room were just closed, blue light from the television set squeezing through the crack like the way she had let herself in. Sneaking closer she pushed one of the doors open slowly, she stepped into the room her sore bare feet singing at the touch of soft carpet.

Ducking around the couch River Song was greeted with the sight of her husband and son lying on the couch, their faces relaxed in sleep. The Doctor was lying on his back, his left arm dangling over the side, his fingers brushing the carpet while his right arm was tucked around Isaiah's little body that was fast asleep on his chest. Her chest tightened at the sight of them, her heart crushed at the thought that she had to move them. As much as she would have liked to leave them there she knew one would have the urge to roll in their sleep and it would end with one or both of them on the floor. She couldn't have that, not at all for her boys. They had beds to sleep in, far better pieces of furniture than a couch.

Phone still in hand River snapped a picture of them lying like that. As she moved closer River was fairly certain that Isaiah had dribbled in his sleep, a small wet patch lasted as the reminder on her husband's shirt. Carefully she leant forward, her hand tucking under the boys arm and the other one around his knees as she detached him as carefully as she could from his father's chest. The Doctor growled in his sleep, his arm shifting, reaching out for the warmth and the child she had taken from his body. Luckily she hadn't startled him enough to wake the man from his seemingly deep slumber.

She carried Isaiah up the stairs and into his bedroom all the while reminding herself that he was probably getting too big to be carried as her joints began to protest. He was still so very small though and that was the reason why she continued to carry him, or at least the choice of argument her mind fought back with. River tucked him in just the way he liked and kissed him goodnight before she descended the stairs in order to move her next boy, this one would have to wake up in order to get upstairs.

He hadn't moved since she moved Isaiah off him, his whole body slack against the cushions and for a moment she couldn't help but admire the vulnerability she could see in his sleep. Leaning down she gently brushed her fingers over his face her voice soft as she called to him in his sleep. The Doctor moved softly, his hand wrapping around her hand at his cheek while his other arm tucked around her waist. With a soft tug he managed to pull her on top of him with a breathless gasp.

The Doctor sighed into the quiet of the room, the television now off as he nuzzled at her neck taking his time to breathe her in. "How do you do that?" He hummed, refusing to let her go as she shifted to get comfortable on top of him.

"What?" River asked quietly as she pulled her head back, her nose inches from his.

The Doctor hummed as he inhaled and then exhaled deeply. "You always smell like strawberries, no matter what. It's heavenly, River. I can't smell a strawberry and not think about you. When it rains you smell like strawberries and vanilla, you taste like a mixture of strawberries and apples and sometimes, if I think about it really hard I can smell watermelon too."

"Are you asking if I'm a fruit?" She asked, securitizing him playfully.

"Depends on how you look at it." He mused, teasing her back as he lent up to catch her lips briefly. "How was your night?" He asked, watching her eyes shine in the darkness.

River hummed. "Bland. I think you scared George off."

"Good." Was his answer.

"And yours?"

The Doctor gleamed and she didn't need the lights on to know it. "Fish fingers and custard." He mused as he detailed Isaiah's reaction and practically felt her squirm in disgust on top of him. "You don't have a first picture with him." His voice lowered to something that was barely there as his mind remembered the boy's frantic chatter about first photos.

Resting her chin on her clasped hands that lay on his chest she looked at him, eyebrows knitted. "What do you mean?"

"You don't have a picture with him from the first time you held him. He has all these pictures of Amy and Rory, of Brian and the older Pond's, but there wasn't one of you with your newborn son. He was prattling about needing a first picture with me, he was rather upset actually that we hadn't gotten one and I realized as he rummaged through the box that not once did he show me a picture with you in it when he was younger than a week old." River shifted uncomfortably as she attempted to climb off him but The Doctor wouldn't let her. "Why not?"

"It's not as though there was anyone there to take the picture." She shrugged as he finally let her go, optioning to sit through this conversation rather than lay. "But, um," Her voice softened to the point that he had to strain. "I do have one, just the one. It's uh, it's in my diary. I can get it if you like?" She asked quietly still, almost afraid.

He shook his head in the dark, unaware that she couldn't really make the movement out. "No, River what's yours is yours. I don't want to impose on that."

In the dark her hand was on his shoulder before it trailed down his arm and grabbed hold of his hand. "I want to share it with you." She whispered as she pulled him up from the couch and led him upstairs.

They talked that night of the night Isaiah was born, of the decision she made and her almost not making it to the 51st century hospital. The Doctor listened carefully to every detail she enclosed as he watched the memories flash across her face he didn't try to bud in or jump up to move. He sat stock still as he listened about the stormy night their child was born, about how once he was placed in her arms for the first time, and one of the nurses took a picture, she had never been in love so hard so quickly and yet so terribly frightened.

She told him how she couldn't pick a name, that nothing seemed worthy to his incredibly small form and to the fact that he was six weeks old when she abandoned the pet name 'Baby Blue' at her father's suggestion of Isaiah.

They fell asleep around her own little box of new born Isaiah mementoes and neither woke until the first crack of sunlight and the sound of Isaiah's little feet sticking to the floorboards. River moved fast enough to close the box and slip it under her bed before the boy reached her side. Easily enough she picked him up and placed him in between them. Replacing the mementoes with the child she cuddled his still sleepy warmth.

"Mama?" He whispered into the daybreak of her soft white and power blue bedroom. She hummed back in response as she boy shifted closer towards her.

"Yes, Baby Blue." She replied when he didn't grant her with a response. The pet name fell off her lips like the casual 'Sweetie' or 'Darling' even Isaiah's usual 'bubba'.

The boy shifted back slightly, moving closer to the man sleeping on his back, than the woman who was now lying on her side. "Daddy has two heartbeats." He whispered, his thumb playing with his bottom lip, his daring thumb sucking habit begging to be brought back.

River stilled, her heart rate quickened, of course he had known that. He had been sleeping on The Doctor's chest after all, but she didn't know how to answer the question. When Isaiah opened his mouth again, it turned out that she really didn't have too. "Is it 'cause he loves us so much that he got two hearts to love us both?" He asked innocently and who was she to do nothing but nod simply at her son's innocent question. He was only five, she could play it off but River realized that there was going to come a day where both she and her husband were going to have to explain to the young boy about things such as space and Gallifrey.

But for now, that day was far off. Now, she was enjoying a simple morning as her husband woke slowly and tickled their son in greeting causing the child's angelic laughter to erupt like the morning sun slipping through her curtains in a warm and welcome greeting.

Soon she would have to get out of bed, take her son to school and head off to work herself. The Doctor would leave and again they wouldn't see him for another week. Inching them closer and closer, if only slowly to the day that Isaiah had to find out the truth. But for now, it was just one Thursday afternoon at a time, whilst the little boy had no cares and his mother didn't have to explain his worries.


I have a stressful week following tonight, so we'll see how I go concerning the next chapter. I have everything planned out but I just need to write it.

So, until next week, unless the stress kills me then well, nice knowing you.

A