Stepping out of the bathroom, Clara sighed away the day knowing she'd get another horrible night's sleep and then awake with a nausea relieved only by nibbles of food and sips of water throughout the morning. John had gotten her ginger at the market on the way home, and a bouquet of two dozen bright red roses he said Henry and Olive picked because they wanted her to feel better. She smiled, looking at the five stems he'd brought to their room to settle at her bedside – one for each of them.

"Was it different from Earth?" She heard Henry ask boldly, and she moved into the hallway and looked into the boy's room to find the man kneeling against the bottom bunk bed, looking in on the two children lying together.

She didn't need to see his face to know John was smiling, hand reaching out to adjust the sheets to their necks before dropping it atop Henry's stomach to give it a wiggle as he told him, "In a lot of ways, my home, Gallifrey, wasn't so different from Earth – there were cities and mountains and fields, we went to schools and we had jobs and houses to settle into at night to dream."

"But you said it was like the mountains were on fire once – I heard you and mummy talking about it."

There came a chuckle and John's head bowed before he shifted and elaborated, "The mountains did look a bit like flames sometimes, when the snow tipped them and the suns blazed against them just right in the evening. And there were fields of long blades of red grass I used to hide in as a child."

"Why were you hiding?" Henry questioned.

John laughed, "Why do you hide in the yard? We were playing at games, me and my friends – we had games just as you do here, and oh did we excel at them."

"How does mummy know, did you take her there?" Henry quietly prompted.

Hesitating, he shifted slightly and sighed, "Your mum did an extraordinary thing for me once," he stopped, considering his words before continuing, "I've lived a very long time and I've made lots of friends, but I've also made lots of enemies and one – this one called the Great Intelligence – tried to hurt me by going through time and attacking me all along it, all at once."

"And mummy saved you," Olive breathed.

He poked her nose, "Your mum, she risked her life to chase the bad guy all through time and she saved me, over and over again, she saved me." He grinned down at their surprised faces, "So you could say your mum is very old as well – and she was with me on my home, she's seen it with her own eyes, which is brilliant because there aren't any others around who have."

There was a silence then as the children absorbed the knowledge of their mother's bravery and then Henry took a breath and on his exhale, he spoke in a whisper, telling him, "So you and mummy, you're sort of like the magnets we've been studying in school – always sort of coming together," he paused and then quietly added, "You've been together forever, all the way from your home on Gallifrey to her home here. You've been everywhere together. Is that what love is?"

"Henry," John allowed, "Love is knowing wherever you are with this one special person, you are home."

Clara pressed her shoulder into the doorway and crossed her arms, "Love," she called, seeing him turn sharply to grin up at her, "Love is going to bed when mummy says and not asking daddy more questions so you can stay awake longer."

"But mum…" came the whine from both.

"It is Friday," John offered with a shrug as Clara crossed the room, kicking aside a toy car with a shake of her head before she knelt next to him and looked down at the duo staring up at her. "Maybe one more story?"

Clara smiled at the excited looks on their faces and she sighed, "Did you both know that love is the oldest magic?" She felt John's hand at the small of her back, rubbing at her gently as she continued, "Love makes impossible things possible."

"Like fish clouds," Olive laughed.

"Exactly like fish clouds," Clara responded, equally amused before bending to slip an arm around the tops of their heads to explain, "And you."

"We were made by magic?" Henry asked, looking doubtful.

John hand rested at her waist and he told the boy, "Well, all children of Earth are made by humans, but special children are touched by magic; children whose parents had so much love that when they're made, they're made with the strongest hearts."

"Magic hearts," Olive uttered.

John pointed, "Exactly, magic hearts."

Henry touched his chest and Clara closed a hand around his, leaning forward to kiss his forehead as she whispered, "How would you two feel about a baby brother or sister?"

Exchanging a quick glance, Olive asked, "Could we have it for Christmas?"

"Unless I have to share my toys," Henry countered.

John dropped his forehead onto Clara's shoulder as she laughed aloud, then she realized, "Oh, I'll be due just after Christmas. It'll be freezing out. Snowing…"

"Do I have to share my birthday?" Henry questioned. "Will I have to share my Christmas and birthday gifts, because that might be asking a bit much."

"Henry!" Clara gasped through a smile, leaning back and watching the guilt on his small face as he turned away from her. "Henry, you might have to share a room," then she turned and whispered, "I'm going to need a bigger car." Her hand came up to press into her face, "I'm going to need a minivan."

Eye widening, Henry pointed, "We should get a truck!"

John shook his head, "Maybe not a truck; maybe not a minivan – but your mother and I, we've made a new baby, a baby with a heart as strong as yours – a third magical heart in what I believe is a house of magical hearts," he smiled at them and Clara watched them blush even in the dim light.

"Is the baby inside mummy's tummy?" Olive asked shyly, starting to sit up and Henry did the same, both looking to her with worried expressions.

Clara carefully crawled into the bunk bed with them, lying down on her back, propping herself up with her elbows as John laid his palm down on her stomach and smiled, nodding at them when they hesitated to do the same. "Don't worry, you won't hurt your mum or the baby."

"But, it's inside," Henry told him, "How did it get in there?"

Eyeing John, Clara offered, "Mummy's have a special place to carry babies until they're ready to be born."

Olive suddenly perked up and told him, "Like the Kangaroo at the zoo!" Then she turned and gave Clara a sickened look before asking, "Is there a pouch?"

With a laugh, Clara shook her head, "I'm not a Kangaroo, I don't have a pouch on the outside, but same idea – baby safe in me until it's the proper time to be born."

Henry looked Clara over a moment, then sat back and asked, head tilted in confused, "If there's no pouch, how does it come out?"

John looked between Clara and Henry before sighing quietly, "You should get some rest, mummy." Turning to the children, he nodded, "Say goodnight to the baby."

Clara jumped slightly as both children shouted, "GOOD NIGHT, BABY!" at her stomach before Olive pressed a kiss to her abdomen and climbed over her legs to rush to her own bedroom, followed by John, who laughed.

Shifting, Clara turned back to Henry, who was still seated calmly beside her, looking down at her with his lips pursed and his brow twisted in contemplation. "What is it, Henry?" She asked, reaching up to hold his chin between her thumb and forefinger.

"How did daddy get the baby inside of you?" He asked. Then his dark eyes met hers, "How is it going to grow? Is that going to hurt you? Because you're quite small, I think, and if a whole person started growing inside of you, you could burst like a balloon. And how do we get it out so that you don't burst…" she stopped him by pulling him against her in a tight hug, kissing at his face until he was laughing and struggling against her.

"Mummy," he gasped as he giggled, "Mummy, stop it."

"I just love you so much," she argued, rolling him onto his back and leaning over him a moment, staring down at his smiling face. "You don't understand it yet, but you are your father's son – always so concerned in such a unique way and it's beautiful, Henry." He chuckled shyly. "You're going to be such an amazing older brother," she sighed honestly, watching his features calm as they watched her tenderly – the same way John did – as though she were his world.

"Well," he told her, head tilting slightly, "You and daddy made me this way with your magic," and he raised his eyebrows as though he'd told some joke and Clara laughed, reaching to tickle him before giving him one last kiss at his cheek and tucking him in.

"Whatever will I do with you," she sighed as he chuckled.

Clara clicked his lamp off and moved to the door, watching him turn on his side before stepping across the hallway to find John sitting at the edge of their bed, small smile ready as his eyes drifted up towards her, not raising his head. Closing their door behind her and flicking the lock, she made her way to him, grinning when his hands easily found the bottom of her nightgown and slipped it up over her head, leaving her almost fully exposed in front of him.

She expected him to toss her into the bed, but instead his fingers slid down over her sides and landed on either side of her waist just as his lips touched the skin just underneath her breasts, trailing kisses over her stomach. Clara rested her palms on his shoulders, smiling as she felt his thumbs gently caress her through the thin material between his skin and hers as his lips dropped to the spot he knew their baby would be.

"Henry is going to have a lot of questions later," Clara whispered.

Head coming up, he nodded before standing, shifting her back to strip off his own shirt and drop his boxers to his ankles, kicking them aside as he lifted a hand to her cheek, tilting her head back so he could kiss her easily. Clara sighed as his hand came around behind her to press her body against his and she skimmed her nails lightly over his back. Shifting away, he smiled.

"Olive thinks babies are delivered by fairies," he told her.

Clara took hold of the beginnings of his erection and with a laugh, she worked her hands over him to watch him bend slightly as she offered quietly, "Should I call him Tinkerbell?"

He shuddered and when she laughed again, he steeled himself, picking her up and turning to lay her in bed. John hung over her on his hands and knees, devious grin on his face as he ducked his head to tease at her nipples with his mouth before finding his way to her belly again, laying comfortably on his side. Clara giggled when he delicately slid a finger over her stomach, then laid his palm flush against her.

"John?" She questioned.

Without looking up, his hand slipped inside of her knickers and the unexpectedness of the motion caused her to shout out as he easily cupped her, teasing her as she clapped a hand over her mouth and pushed the other into his short hair. He shifted up then, removing the last bit of her clothes carefully before slowly settling himself atop her warmly and hooking his arms underneath hers, smiling down at her.

He kissed her simply and adjusted himself over her as she shifted her legs apart. Clara reached down and eased him inside of her and when his body pressed deeply against hers, she released a gasp against his cheek and then snickered, "Not Tinkerbell then."

With an amused huff, he agreed, "Definitely not."