A/N: I think you'll be able to tell which part of this chapter I enjoyed writing the most when you get to it. Just saying.

Forty-Five

The last couple days in September were generally quiet. Other than the Directors Stewart and Tucker's anniversary, there was little to note as far as what impacted the mainframe and its general daily goings-on. It was very quiet, mostly punctuated by routine inspections, mandatory training, and a whole lot of preparing for shit none of them hoped ever threw down.

Meanwhile, however, deep in the depths of Mainframe UK's medbay, Clara Oswald was beginning to grow restless. She was enamored with her son Conall, that much was certainly true, but without the Doctor by her side—without her freedom—she was edging closer and closer to Mainframe Madness in earnest.

"I think I'm about ready to go back," she said. It was the last day in September as she was on the couch, bottle-feeding Conall while Kate was visiting—Malcolm had to have a shout at his staff, Glenn had the day off, and Sullivan was otherwise occupied.

"Are you sure about that?" Kate asked. "There's still some wiggle room between now and when you told the Doctor to leave."

"I am," Clara nodded. She burped Conall and continued to feed him, noting how voracious his appetite had become. "If I stick around too much longer, it will be more difficult for me to leave in the end. I can't create unnecessary risks just because I stuck around for too long."

"Then I'll install the baby seat in the car, begin the paperwork forgeries, and talk to Fajr about how to smuggle this little guy out without needing to break out the mindwipes," Kate decided. "How does a week sound?"

"About like what I was going to suggest." Clara looked at the baby and frowned slightly. "It's going to be weird, going back to my normal life, pretending that none of this ever happened."

"The least we can say that it is an act borne of love, not of disinterest or hate," Kate reminded her. "The things we do for our children are beyond measure, and if we do well, then they know, even if they aren't fully aware until later."

"I'm just wondering how big he'll be by the time I come visit first," Clara mused. "I understand now more than ever how quick babies grow. He's already sleeping through the night—soon he will begin walking and talking and then, bam, he's off to Primary."

"Then don't take too long to visit," Kate insisted. "Give yourself a month or two to readjust, but after that, try to come as often as you can. Give a ring and we can set up a day."

"You're too kind to me… to us…"

"I am doing what I would hope anyone else would do if the situation was reversed—something we all have to be reminded to do every once in a while."

"Thank you," Clara nodded. She blinked a tear from her eyes as she put the bottle down on the table and wiped some spit-up from Conall's chin. "One day you're going to be better at this whole eating thing, don't worry."

"Not for a bit," Kate chuckled. "I'll make sure you get to experience a messy pasta night."

Clara smiled at that, not taking her eyes off the baby in her arms. "Sounds delightful."

It took a bit of intense planning, but Fajr was able to find a window of time during which they could move Conall and Clara out of Mainframe UK without anyone who wasn't allowed to notice, well, noticing. It was in the middle of the day on Saturday and involved the use of a couple different shimmers and a side door that was generally only used for emergencies or when the Security Head just really, really wanted to take a quick walk outside. Fajr, Kate, and Clara reached the surface with relative ease, where they found Gordon and Malcolm waiting by the former's car.

"Why does this feel illegal?" Gordon asked, doing his best to make sure only his stepfather heard.

"It probably is… somehow…" Malcolm shrugged. He greeted Kate with a kiss and opened the back door, where there was a car seat already installed. "Ladies first."

"Yes, now—shit, Clara, get over here," Kate hissed, noticing that the younger woman was not moving as she stared up at the sky. Fajr wasn't entirely certain about what to do, shrugging at Kate with a confused look on her face, forcing the Mainframe Director to come over to Clara and touch her shoulder, snapping her out of it. "Clara? What's wrong?"

"I haven't seen the sky in almost a year," she replied. …oh… She shifted the weight on her hips and the shimmer faded, showing her holding onto Conall in her arms, the boy wearing a space-print bodysuit and wrapped in a yellow-and-grey tartan blanket. "I haven't seen the sky or breathed fresh air and it's so odd now…"

"This is London; fresh air is fresher at my house, now come on."

After getting Clara into the car and Conall in the baby seat, Kate, Malcolm, and Gordon all got in as well, leaving Fajr behind to continue monitoring things in the Mainframe. They made the drive out to the Stewart-Tucker home, the family welcoming in their friend and the newest member with open arms.

"This is where you live?" Clara marveled as she stepped inside the house. She looked around, absolutely floored at her surroundings. "It's huge."

"It was my father's, bought in a favorable market," Kate explained. "Now Malcolm and I live here, and is where we fully plan on raising Conall. Would you like to see the nursery?"

"Oh, yes, please," Clara nodded. The baby was beginning to get wobbly from sleep and was frowning crankily—just like his father.

"Then follow me," Kate said. She led Clara up the stairs and into the nursery, with Malcolm trailing not far behind. The room was a far cry from the greenish-blue splotched project from before, now with an even coat of paint, white furniture, and plenty of books and toys sitting about, with empty spots where some had been taken to the Mainframe for use. Kate took her purse from her shoulder and began to empty said toys and books, putting everything back in their proper place.

"It's lovely," Clara said. She laid Conall down in the cot, watching as he went promptly to sleep. "It looks like he's already gotten used to the place."

"Nips know when they're home," Malcolm said. He was hanging out over by the doorway, leaning on the frame as the scene unfolded. "Would you like to stay for tea?"

"No—I should get back to my flat," Clara replied. "I don't want to draw this out for too long." She leaned over the cot and placed a kiss on Conall's forehead, trying not to cry. "Goodbye, my baby boy."

"Remember, you always have my mobile number," Kate reminded her. Clara nodded and they left the room, Gordon ready to chauffer her back to her flat and debrief with her Zygon duplicate.

One last hug and she was out the door; that was it.

No more visiting Clara and Conall in the medbay, no more sneaking around the rest of the Mainframe when it came to their existence, no more worry about what would happen if the Doctor dropped in and saw what was going on—they made it through one of the most tedious and dangerous parts, allowing an intense weight to lift from Kate and Malcolm's shoulders.

"It's official," she breathed as they collapsed onto the couch, "we're parents."

"I'm going greyer already," he joked. His wife gently slapped his knee and he let out a short laugh. "At least I have an expert like you by my side—I'd be insane to not."

"You're insane anyhow," she joked.

They put the news on and watched television until they could hear Conall crying—he was awake and in need of attention. After a bottle and a switch from television to the stereo, Kate laid down a blanket over the rug and put Conall down on it, then settling above him an activity center to encourage the lad to reach up and hit noisy, shiny things and interact with his environment. Malcolm made tea and the new parents sat on the couch, watching their son as he played.

About twenty minutes later, the kitchen door opened and shut loudly, causing Conall to look in its direction. "Mum! Dad! I'm home!"

"We're in the sitting room," Kate said, raising her voice just enough for her daughter to hear. "Have a good day?"

"Yeah; met some American tourists who were passing through and… oh!" Fiona gasped as she entered the sitting room, seeing the baby that was definitely not around when she left. "You didn't tell me you were bringing home Conall today!" She went to where he was laying on the blanket and sat down on the rug, leaning over him so he could see her face. "Hello there—it's me, your big sister Fiona."

"It needed to be very last-minute, so we weren't entirely sure he'd be home now," Kate said. "Bismuth needed to find an appropriate window of time, and they aren't exactly plentiful."

"A text would have sufficed; at least then I'd have something to look forward to when I got home," Fiona snarked, moving the activity center off to the side. She smiled at Conall and tickled him under his chin, eliciting a laugh. "Aren't you a cute, pudgy, wee thing?" He rolled over onto his tummy and she squealed in excitement. "Oh! He can move on his own already! That's great!"

"Just wait until you have to deal with a baby from scratch," Malcolm warned. "They're not always this cute and cuddly… and that's before they turn into shitty teens."

"Oh, it's okay—I don't know if I want to have kids myself," Fiona shrugged. She picked up Conall and sat him upright on the blanket, holding his back so as to allow him to look around the room with his huge, curious eyes. He clumsily grabbed one of his toys, a light-up mobile, and held it out to her with a giggle. "Oh? For me? Thank you!" She took the toy and held it up to her ear. "Hi! Lex? Yes! We have Conall now! I think you and Euan need to come over. Won't it be great when Gordy and Kanda give us another of these to play with?"

"Maybe if you like kids so much, you should go into early childhood development like Kanda did," Kate suggested. "Don't just sit a business degree if you enjoy other things."

"Nah—the business degree will be what gets me a good job, which can fund being the fun sister and best auntie," Fiona rationalized. "I know what I'm about, Mum."

"Alright, just never say never to anything regarding your career or kids—you don't want it to potentially bite you later on should circumstances change."

"Sounds fair." She then noticed Conall holding out his arms, opening and closing his fists towards her as he babbled incoherently. "It looks like someone wants a snuggle…" The teen grabbed the baby and held him close, sighing in satisfaction when he cuddled into her chest. "Yes. This is perfect."

"Do we tell her how badly her heart will break when he doesn't do that anymore?" Kate mused aloud.

"Ah, let her figure it out on her own," Malcolm laughed. He then pulled his mobile from his pocket and activated the camera. "Hey you two; let me get a shot."

"Conall, look at Dad!" Fiona said, pointing. The baby turned its head in the right direction and Fiona put her hand down just in time for Malcolm to get the perfect photo of the two.

"Excellent," he grinned. "I'll send it to everyone."

"Proof I got to hold the baby first," Fiona gloated in a sing-song manner. She then sniffed cautiously, her nose crinkling sourly. "Oh, smells like he needs to be changed…"

"…and that means that you can be the first to change him," Kate said, making it clear that she was not moving from her spot on the couch. "Malcolm? Can you show Best Big Sister Fiona how it's done?"

"Gladly," Malcolm grinned. He stood and placed his cuppa down on the side table, waiting as Fiona stood with Conall in her arms. "First thing you have to know is that you're gonna get pissed on sooner or later. Baby piss is a sign of trust—it's a bond that's rarely broken if you do it right."

Fiona let out a croaking groan, extremely not-excited by the prospect. Babies were cute, but they were also rather gross, which made her glad Conall was not her child and was instead her mother and stepfather's main responsibility.

A few days passed, with Malcolm and Kate taking turns working from home as they adjusted into their new routine. Their home office soon became a makeshift nursery in its own right, with a collapsible play cot put in the corner where Conall rolled around and played with his toys for most of the day. He would often pull the nearby parent's attention away from their work, with nappy changes or demanding to be fed or even the desire to be held and soothed. In fact, Malcolm specifically took to working with Conall curled up against his chest while napping or quietly playing with a toy, a thing that was definitely less productive than he'd hoped, but fuck it. One look from those large, blue eyes and he was trapped in the boy's spell. Was this what being a father was like? He wasn't sure. The only thing he did know, however, as he allowed the baby to cuddle against him as he wrote violently explicit and threatening emails was that he was at home with his kid and no one was going to stop him otherwise.

There was something that bothered Malcolm as he went to work in the Mainframe itself, however. He didn't know what it was at first, though it was a nagging, upset sort of feeling that was making him go bonkers as he sat in his proper office, with Aparajita outside typing away and his staff liable to walk in at any moment.

He missed Conall.

Maybe that was what being a father meant, he considered. Being there—or at least wanting to be there—and missing every moment he was gone. He found himself glancing at photos on his mobile, or the one he framed for his desk, or the app that allowed him access to the nannycam to see that the bairn was sleeping peacefully in his cot. A chuckle would escape him as he caught himself: the Wolf of Whitehall was fully domesticated in his yearning to be at home with his cub and pack.

"I need your approval on this release, sir," Sanchez said one day, walking into Malcolm's office. She passed him the manila folder filled with what she hoped to be sanctioned photos and statements, the compiling of such had taken her too long to put together without getting some sort of feedback. He took it from her without question—if she had gotten past Aparajita, then she was meant to be in there.

"This about the Sea Devil cemetery in Morar?"

"Yes sir."

"I'll give it a glance and if you don't hear me attempting to work through the stages of lividity, then you're fine."

"Thank you." She then paused, noting the photos on his desk. There was one that she had never seen before and it caught her eye.

"What…?" Malcolm frowned.

"Your grandson's cute, sir," she mentioned. He stared at her and blinked, silently demanding an explanation. She pointed at the photo of Fiona and Conall and went red in embarrassment. "Granddaughter...? Sorry—I don't exactly do well with babies, but…"

"Iria," he said evenly, folding his hands atop the papers on his desk, "what makes you think that's my grandkid?"

"That's Director Stewart's daughter, yeah?"

"Go on…"

"…and she's holding a baby… in a photo on your desk…"

"…which immediately leads you to assume grandkid?"

"Well, erm, I…"

"If my teenaged stepdaughter popped out a kid, chances are you would've heard before now and seen photos prior this one," he explained calmly. "My wife and I wanted a kid that was ours, so we adopted a wee thing whose parents couldn't take care of him. Simple as that."

"Oh…" Sanchez let out an awkward laugh and shrugged.

"Yes…? Do I need to start having a shout at you as I do with Shaw?"

"No, it's just that… that's even cuter," she admitted. She noticed he was going pink in the face—he was being bashful. "You ever had kids before?"

"Nope—no time and had been with the wrong person first go-around. It's a bit late to start, but I think I can handle it."

"Yeah, that's really cute; I didn't think you did cute," Sanchez replied. It was then that Aparajita came in with another stack of papers for Malcolm to sign off on.

"I didn't think so at first either—the tit's full of surprises," she said. She plopped the papers on Malcolm's desk and smirked. "Looks like you better get going, or you won't be able to get through your backlog enough to justify working from home tomorrow."

"You have been working from home a lot lately," Sanchez realized. "Awww… I can't wait to tell Gwendolyn that you do have a soft spot… and for a baby no less…"

"Leave your girlfriend out of this," Malcolm snarled, narrowing his eyes and pointing with his pen. It didn't work, however, and the two young women left the office in giggles, taken by the entire idea of their boss cuddling with an infant as he typed up a cuss-filled email full of threats and hyperbole.

Fuck.