A/N: I was gonna post this a bit later, but I'm a little down from being in the middle of a bad five-day stretch at work and posting fic is a great personal pick-me-up.

Thirty-Six

As it happened, there was not much when it came to adjusting one Miss Clara Oswald to her new accommodations. Malcolm passed Clara and her bag over to Kate and Alessandra, who then proceeded to bring her over to a private room inside the medbay. It was more of an entire small ward than anything else, with plenty of room to move around and create more of a studio flat-type of feel in the case of a long-term patient like her (the likes of whom were thankfully few and far between). There was both a treadmill and stationary bike facing an "open window" that they programmed to show the Blackpool Promenade (amongst other locales), an old couch and armchair set from one of the offices, a television that was more than big enough, various bookshelves, a kitchenette… nobody knew how long she would be under UNIT's care, her most of all, and it was important she was not going to snap and try to escape in a fit of cabin fever.

Even so, she had some surprises when her baseline examinations were complete. It was just the three of them in the room and the new mother was shocked beyond belief.

"Seven months?!" she gasped, eyes going even wider than normal. She was sitting up on the bed, the exam now over, covering her lower half with a blanket. "How do you know I've been pregnant for seven months and not even realize it?! You just said that you're not even a gynecologist!" Sullivan took off her gloves and shrugged.

"Not only do I need to be a jill-of-all trades to run Biomedical, but my instruments don't lie," she replied. She handed Clara the diagnostic device, the readout simple and clear despite the more esoteric graphs and charts that also adorned it. The younger woman stared at it, not entirely sure she wanted to believe what she was seeing. "R&D and I have been developing this device to measure the age of fetal cells and more accurately date the day of conception in all Tripartite life, and we've been able to pinpoint things very closely. My guess is that you became pregnant shortly before or after the Insurgency, giving room for the metabolic stasis you were in during that time. Would that make sense?"

The younger woman thought about that for a moment and her face went red. "It does. There's, erm, a lot of opportunities."

"No reason to be embarrassed," Kate said. "Plenty of women before you have been caught off-guard by a pregnancy and its duration, and there will be many more after."

"…but the soreness, the nausea, the needing to use the bathroom constantly, it all started nearly four months ago! It doesn't align!"

"That would only mean that you were pregnant with a Human child, but as it seems, Gallifreyan genetics are a completely different matter," Alessandra said. She tapped on the corner of the readout screen and a diagram of the fetus appeared. "This is your baby, having grown to about the size a Human would be at fourteen weeks old, at the beginning of the second trimester. With our instruments, however, we can tell that it instead has many molecular patterns indicating it has been developing for at least thirty-one, which should be well past the start of the third trimester and dangerously close to being not just a viable preterm but a normal, though still preterm, child. The thing is though is that it's not undersized, merely developing at a different rate. Normal gynecologists and obstetricians would, and should, be completely baffled by this—in fact, I can probably name more than a couple I've worked with that would call me cracked for even talking like I am."

"So even though I haven't felt the baby move or can even see it's there in my figure, it still has been around long enough to make me start waddling if it was a regular human being?"

"Essentially, yes," Alessandra said. She glanced at Kate as Clara leaned back into the pillows and began to silently cry—they knew it was going to be a long few months for Miss Oswald's stay, but this long was going to be brutal. Kate took a kerchief from her pocket and handed it to Clara, who dabbed at her eyes with it as she sniffled.

"We're here for you, remember that," she assured her. Clara nodded in silent understanding. "You knew this was the best place, and now it's even clearer that you made the right choice by coming here. We will make sure you and the baby are alright no matter how long it takes."

"How long will that be?" Clara asked, voice cracking. "Can you tell?"

"It's difficult to say," Alessandra admitted. "Our understanding of Gallifreyan biology is limited to samples taken from an adult Time Lord displaying male physiology. For all we know, the fetus's growth will greatly pick up in speed tonight and will only require a normal Human's nine months, maybe just ten."

"That sounds like you think it'll take longer."

"It could, but you also exhibit signs of possible delayed implantation, which does not occur in Tripartite species. This might mean that fertilization occurred well before the Insurgency and the zygote, utilizing its paternal genetics, simply did not start to develop into an embryonic stage until after certain conditions in your body were met and—"

"All I want to know is how long I've been pregnant!" Clara snapped angrily. "When did I get bloody knocked up so I can prevent it from happening again?!"

"Being honest, I've already given you the closest dates I can," Sullivan said. "Your baby is part-Gallifreyan; without knowledge of what their reproductive cycle is like, there is no way I can determine that, even if I make my best guesstimates through your part of things."

"Shit, I need a drink," Clara groused. A thought then crossed her mind: "Are Gallifreyan fetuses more resistant to alcohol? I hadn't exactly been abstaining for all seven months…"

"Adult Gallifreyans are, yes, but as far as we can tell, nothing has adversely affected your child yet," Alessandra said empathetically. She then began to pack up, not wanting to keep going in the circular conversation she feared was occurring, as well as letting the pregnant woman calm down. "I'm going to let you take the rest of the day off, relax and get adjusted to your temporary home, and we'll continue our tests tomorrow."

"There's more?"

"We are going to be testing almost every day in order to make certain that nothing is wrong with either you or the child; worst case scenarios include your body attempting to self-terminate thanks to the child's wildly different genetics making the allograft impossible, or it could end up parasitic and we would need to induce labor what is technically early for it, though late for a Human. I honestly have no idea what we are going to encounter from here on out. One of my equivalents over in North America might be of some help, but she doesn't come back from maternity leave until next year. I'll contact her then."

"Great."

Clara sulked as Sullivan cleaned up the remainder of her things and wheeled her supply cart out into the corridor. Kate remained behind, however, turning around so that Clara could have some semblance of privacy while she put her trousers back on before heading over towards the kitchenette.

"Tea?" the younger woman asked.

"No thank you; go ahead if you want some." Kate sat down on the couch and waited for Clara to join her, a mug of decaffeinated tea in-hand. "Is there anything you would like us to keep on the lookout for while doing the shopping?"

"I'd say stronger tea than this, but where there's no pint—"

"It'll be over soon enough," Kate said. "Both of my children felt like they took them two years to be born; feeling anxious and frustrated at this point is normal."

"Yeah, but you not only had Human children, but you had your—I assume ex—husband as well," Clara muttered into her tea.

"Not entirely. I never married my son's father and he wasn't around during the birth because we were in the middle of a row. My daughter's father… well… I married him, but let's say that we rushed into things a bit too quickly and having a baby only showed how terrible we were for one another faster than normal, though not fast enough." Kate looked at Clara and frowned slightly. "You're doing the right thing, even if the Doctor isn't here."

"I know, I know—still doesn't mean I don't want him here. This is as much his child as it is mine. It's not fair to keep this from him."

"In a perfect universe, maybe, but this one we live in is far from perfect, as much as I hate to say." She put her hand on the other woman's shoulder and made sure she looked her in the eyes. "He'll find out one day, and he will understand, and if he's cross with anyone over it, it would be the universe for even making this an option for you."

"Thank you." Clara took another sip of tea and put it down before drawing her knees up to her chin, hugging her legs. "Speaking of Scottish accents, Malcolm and I talked on our way down."

"Did you now?"

"Yeah. I didn't know that about him."

"Know what?"

"…about what happened that Christmas, when he saved Osgood from the Dream Crab," Clara clarified. "I guess he wanted full disclosure about everything—the invented memories, the fact he has no idea what he's doing, that he's more than just a bundle of nerves—and before today I never would have thought he was capable of having such a frank and honest conversation."

"I didn't marry him for the accent alone," Kate laughed.

"Admit it: that is a plus though."

"No denying that."

The two women chuckled over that for a moment before Kate's mobile buzzed. She took a quick glance and saw who the text was from—Bismuth.

"Shit, duty calls," she grumbled. A quick glance at the message and she stood. "Everything's an emergency these days."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do for UNIT while I'm here, yeah?" Clara offered. She watched as Kate walked towards the door, a weight dropping in her stomach. "I don't want to feel like I'm coasting on nothing."

"You're far from it," Kate said, "just know that Sullivan is going to be seeing a lot of you over the next however-many months. Your cooperation allows us an attempt at understanding a sentient species of extraterrestrial origin that we did not before; I wouldn't call that coasting."

"Still, I don't want to go insane from lack of work."

"Duly noted."

Kate said goodbye and quickly made her way through the Mainframe, coming to a stop outside of Fajr's office. Gordon was nowhere in sight, nor were any other members of the Zygon's staff, and she decided to simply walk in unannounced. Sure enough, there was Fajr, sitting at her desk while looking as though she had seen a ghost.

"Good, you're here," she said soon as she saw Kate. "I know you were with Miss Oswald, but this is almost more urgent… actually, it's related, in a way."

"Should I sit down?" Kate wondered. Fajr motioned towards a chair and Kate sat in it. "What's the matter, Bismuth? What sort of news do you have that relates to Miss Oswald?"

"She has bred with the Doctor, correct?"

"A more Human turn of phrase is that 'she is carrying his child' or 'having his baby' or just that she's pregnant and he is the father."

"Is this a desirable act?"

"What do you mean…?"

Fajr exhaled heavily, "Reproduction and mating are not pleasing acts to Zygons—both are very uncomfortable and cumbersome, but it doesn't look like it is that way for others."

"I cannot speak for Silurians, but in my experience, Humans tend to perform sexual acts for fun as well as for reproducing… which can also be uncomfortable and cumbersome, by the way." Kate looked at Fajr, seeing that the Zygon was embarrassed. "You mean you never caught on to all that? I thought you had to study Human culture as part of your training. You're one of the best we have—you can create unique disguises instead of mimicking, for goodness sake."

"Sexually-driven relationships are usually an enigma to my species, even the ones most talented at blending into local species, given our lack of pleasure from such activities in our natural states. I digress though; reproduction is a thing to be celebrated, yes?"

"In theory, yes."

"…and yet Miss Oswald sent the Doctor, her mate, away despite all this? Did I understand that correctly as well? You were whispering into the mobile."

"Yes; we have a window of around twenty-two months without his interference anywhere. With any luck, Miss Oswald shall have her child under our care and he shall be none the wiser in the end." She raised an eyebrow at the Zygon. "Why do you ask?"

"Before my monitoring team left for the day, a chatter-tech gave me some very interesting intel: the Doctor is not out in the vastness of space, but in Bristol, lecturing in a small university. I fear he might know something is wrong regarding his mate and child and is instead laying low until he can take us by surprise." She watched as her technically-commanding-officer's face went pale, her own nerves not comforted by the wide eyes and alarmed expression that Stewart was now wearing.

"Wait, he's where…?"

"Bristol," Fajr repeated. She took a manila file folder from a drawer and placed it on the desk within Kate's reach. "It appears as though he's deliberately kept a low profile, and that he's been able to manipulate records to make it seem as though he has been a string of different people instead of one. He's been thorough and is well-practiced. My team doesn't know about Miss Oswald yet, as per your orders, making the conjecture all my own."

"I see," Kate frowned

She opened the paper file and glanced over it—there was a list of false names the extraterrestrial had used over the years, as well as his list of accomplishments and accolades. He had been there for nearly the entirety of Bristol's history; through plague and war, trade and industry, growth and death, the Doctor had been there for all of it. For a being whom was unable to properly sit still in the most exciting of times, the idea that he had stayed in place for nearly a thousand years throughout the tedium of history was an incredible stretch of the imagination.

"Have you been able to independently confirm this?"

"We're working on it, but it's leaning towards that we will be able to say with confidence that the Doctor has been in Bristol throughout its entire history from burgh to city." The Zygon furrowed her Human eyebrows and leaned back in her chair. "I don't like this; how can someone as conspicuous as the Doctor get through nearly a millennium of staying put and not being discovered? We should have known, your father and his guard should have known, his successors should have known… someone should have known…"

"It's neither here nor there anymore," Kate said. She closed the file and placed it on her lap. "Not a word of this to Miss Oswald, clear?"

"It goes without saying, ma'am. You give the word and I'll head over to Bristol and monitor him myself."

"No, keep at a distance and observe; let me at least have a chat with him before we put our resources into something that can be perfectly benign. For all we know, he needs a part for the TARDIS and it's easier to sit around and wait instead of synthesizing the entire thing himself."

"It's still suspicious to me," Fajr said. "The coincidence is enough to be unnerving."

"Monitor him from here—don't make contact until I say so," Kate ordered. "May I keep the file?"

"Go ahead; I made a copy in case you wanted as such."

"Good. Let me know immediately if there is any change in his status or why we think he might be in Bristol." Kate stood, put the folder under her arm, and paused pensively. "This will likely get messy. I'm counting on you and your department to keep us all safe."

"Do you think the Doctor would become dangerous if he knew Miss Oswald was… carrying his child…?"

"He has likely tortured and killed for far less over the years, I imagine, and for people he cares for in far less romantic ways," Kate warned. "Remember that we are dealing with a Time Lord and that Time Lords are fickle, insane beings who easily view themselves as mighty gods with the galaxies as their playground. The entire time we are dealing with the Doctor, we are potentially one shade away from dealing with another Master."

"That is… less than comforting."

"Hence the caution; share this with Arwell, Blythe, and Bell, but strict orders not to spread it to anyone else unless absolutely necessary, do you hear? Once I've figured out an appropriate time to give him a visit… then we can start to see what's going on with our esteemed Mister President."

"Yes, ma'am."

The two then decided on a follow-up meeting the next morning, with Kate leaving afterwards. After dropping the file off at her office, she went to the Raven Room and found Malcolm attempting to pry a mechanical beak open with a screwdriver, half a dead mouse dangling out of the other side.

"I got bored in the office," he claimed, as though it would justify his presence there. Malcolm glanced towards his wife and noticed that she did not seem entirely there, as though her attention was still in another place. "What's the matter, love? Everything go alright with Miss Oswald?"

"Oh? Yeah, she will be fine for now. I just came from Security, is all."

"Security…? I thought you were supposed to be getting Oswald settled."

"I was."

He arched a brow as a flag went up in the back of his brain. "What did Bismuth have to say?"

"The Doctor's in Bristol."

"Well, fuck…" He finally got the beak open and pulled the mouse corpse out with a pair of tweezers, binning it immediately. "Any word on why, or…?"

"We don't, so we have to be careful, or risk him discovering what we're doing." She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned against his back, gently kneading his muscles as she thought. "I need you to be aware of it, just in case things explode and we need an excuse for the masses."

"Having all this knowledge almost makes me feel bad for some of the more regularly mind-wiped."

"Almost…?"

"Yeah, almost." He leaned back until he was pressed against his wife, her hands now still upon his shoulders. "You ready to go? We're edging in on fifteen hours."

"I am fully aware of that." She looked at the ravens on the table and frowned; there was one that was more wiring and steel than feathers, hopping around as it snapped at other, more bird-like, ravens. Letting go of Malcolm, Kate reached out towards the bird, quickly bringing her hand back when it snapped at her.

"Junior, don't bite Mam," he scolded, smacking the thing with the end of a screwdriver. "Be nice."

"Mam! Mam!" the robot bird mimicked. It fluffed its "wings" and tilted its head at the Humans.

"This is the only thing you are naming 'Junior' by the way," Kate deadpanned.

"Wasn't planning on anything else," Malcolm replied. He stood and landed a quick kiss to Kate's lips before taking her hand in his. "Let's not name the kid just yet; we don't even know what we're getting other than a baby."

"Just a reminder," she said. "Now let's go home."

And they did.